


Put Me Together Again

by skargasm



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Human Derek Hale, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:21:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 31
Words: 44,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23173093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: Loosely based on the novel'Come Lie with Me'by Linda Howard.Derek Hale lives his life to the fullest. So when a terrible accident robs him of his ability to walk, it also takes away his desire to live.Stiles Stilinski, one of the best physical therapists out there, takes on his case and begins to heal the broken man and help him to realise there is so much more to gain from living. But as his therapist, Stiles feels that whatever Derek claims to feel for him, it’s just gratitude and Stiles doesn’t want to risk his heart.Despite all of that, Stiles begins to fall for him but when it looks like Derek might be able to get his life back – will he still want Stiles?
Relationships: Chris Argent/Laura Hale, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Comments: 154
Kudos: 357





	1. 15

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, it's another WiP! I have always loved reading romantic fiction, and was/am a die-hard Linda Howard fan. I remembered a book of hers that I had read all the way back in 1984 and I found myself wondering what it would be like to update it to 2020 and give it a Sterek twist. 
> 
> This story will be loosely based on her book, but there will be obvious changes including characters smushing, hopefully updated dynamics, and probably a bit of smut! 
> 
> I understand that some people don't like taking a chance on Works in Progress, but really do appreciate the people who do take that risk on me and act as cheerleaders and enablers!
> 
> I hope you love this story as much I do and that I can do the original justice.
> 
> Skar  
> x
> 
> * * *

[ ](https://imgur.com/rbqLxwc)

* * *


	2. Interrupted Vacation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, the rape/non con does not occur between the main characters - it is part of one character's backstory. Details are given in Chapter 24. If that is a trigger in any shape or form, then please look after yourself and if you choose to read the story, perhaps avoid that chapter?
> 
> * * *

The ocean has a hypnotic effect. Stiles gave in without a struggle, enjoying the tranquillity of the moment. He wasn’t an idle person but the white sands and turquoise water were so peaceful, and knowing he was coming to the end of his two-week vacation, he wanted to make the most of it. The glorious sunset made it easy to switch off his brain and just enjoy. A brightly coloured sailboat caught his attention, enough so that he didn’t hear the arrival of his visitor. 

Without haste, he turned his head, body poised for action despite the fact that he hadn’t moved. He looked his visitor up and down: tall, salt and pepper haired with blue eyes that could quite possibly be kind in the right circumstances. He was dressed in an expensive suit and Stiles wondered idly how he was planning on getting the sand out of his very expensive shoes. 

“Mr Stilinski?” He enquired politely.

Brows raised inquisitively, Stiles rose from his seat and held out his hand. “Yes, I’m Stiles Stilinski. And you are – “

“I’m Chris Argent,” he said, taking Stiles’ hand and shaking it firmly. “I realise that I’m intruding on your vacation, Mr Stilinski, but it’s very important that I speak with you.”

Intrigued, Stiles gestured to the chair beside him on the porch before resuming his seat, resting his legs on the railing in front of him. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“There most certainly is,” he replied with feeling. “I wrote to you about six weeks ago regarding a potential patient I’d like you to take on. Derek Hale.”

Stiles frowned. “I remember. But I answered your letter, Mr Argent, before I left for vacation. Haven’t you received my response?”

“I have, but I was hoping to get you to reconsider your refusal. There are extenuating circumstances, and his condition is deteriorating rapidly. I’m convinced that you – “

“I’m not a miracle worker,” Stiles interrupted him. “And I do have other clients lined up. Why should I put Mr Hale ahead of others who need my services just as badly as he does?”

“Are they dying?” he asked bluntly.

“Is Mr Hale? From the information you gave me in your letter, the last operation was a success. There are other therapists as well qualified as I am, if there’s some reason why Mr Hale has to have therapy this very moment.”

Chris Argent looked out over the waves, a sad expression crossing his face. “Derek Hale won’t live to see the year out – not the way he is now. You see, Mr Stilinski, he has convinced himself he will never walk again, and he’s given up. He doesn’t eat, he rarely sleeps – he refuses to leave the house.”

Stiles had seen similar instances in the past. Depression was sometimes the most difficult aspect for patients to fight, taking away their energy and determination. Unfortunately, it was becoming more and more common – in the fast pace of the modern world, it was all too easy to feel left behind. “Still, Mr Argent, another therapist – “

“I don’t think so. If I can be blunt, Derek has seen off at least three other therapists within a week. He refuses to cooperate at all, saying that it’s a useless enterprise merely to keep him occupied. The doctors have told us that the latest operation was a complete success but because he is still unable to move his legs, he doesn’t believe them. Dr Deaton recommended you as someone who has had remarkable success with uncooperative patients, and that your methods are extraordinary.”

“Well, he would say that – he trained me originally.”

“I see. Still, I’m convinced that you would see why Derek should be your next patient if you would come with me to Beacon Hills – just to meet him. I think you would see why he needs to be your next patient.”

Stiles hesitated, contemplating Mr Argent’s proposal. Visiting would do no harm and he would be better able to assess whether he could be of assistance or not. He did have other potential clients who were depending on him; why should Derek Hale come first? But he couldn’t lie to himself – Chris had him intrigued. He thrived on challenge, on testing himself to the limit and this sounded like it would indeed be a test. 

“Derek is an extraordinary young man,” said Mr Argent softly. “He’s engineered several aeronautical systems that are widely used now. He’s been working in the field of fossil fuels and recycling. He’d converted many of his own vehicles to run cleanly; climbs mountains, races yachts, goes deep sea diving. He’s a man who loves a challenge and was at home on land, at sea or in the air. Now he’s chained to a wheelchair, and to be frank, it’s killing him.”

“Which one of his interests was he pursuing when he had his accident?” Stiles asked.

“Mountain climbing. The rope above him snagged on a rock and his movements sawed the rock in two. He fell approximately forty-five feet to a ledge, bounced off it, then rolled or fell another two hundred feet. The snow must have cushioned him enough to save his life. He’s said more than once that if he’d fallen off the mountain in the summer, he wouldn’t have to spend his life as he is now.”

Stiles nodded, already imagining the damage such a fall could have caused.

“Tell me about his injuries.”

Mr Argent rose to his feet. “I can do far better than that – I have his file, complete with x-rays, in my car. Dr Deaton suggested that I bring it.”

“He’s a sneaky bastard,” Stiles murmured to himself as Mr Argent disappeared around the deck. Deaton would know exactly how to Stiles’ attention, how to set up a case so that it piqued Stiles’ interest. However, he would make up his mind _after_ he saw the x-rays and reading the case history. If he didn’t think he could help Derek Hale, he wouldn’t put him through the trauma of therapy – it wouldn’t be fair or right.

Mr Argent returned with a thick envelope and Stiles accepted it, placing it onto the table at his side. Argent looked confused and Stiles realised he had expected it to be read immediately. Imperious of him. 

“I’ll have a look and give you my decision tomorrow.”

“Thank you for taking the time to reconsider – I appreciate it.” With a nod, Mr Argent turned and walked away and Stiles got the impression that very few people made Chris Argent wait for answers. Well, if Stiles went to work for him, he’d have to get used to it – Stiles worked **his** way and wasn’t willing to be pushed around by anyone. 

He tried to get back to his previous state of relaxation but the envelope was practically calling his name, and with a sigh of frustration at his curious nature, he pulled out the thick pile of paperwork. He held the x-rays one by one up to the sun, wincing when he saw the damage that had been done to a strong, vital human body. But the x-rays taken after each successive operation – and there had been many – revealed bones that had healed better than anyone had the right to expect, far better than anyone could have hoped. Joints had been rebuilt; the most up to date pins and plates had been utilised to reconstruct his body and hold it together. Examining the final x-rays, Stiles could see no physical reason why Derek Hale shouldn’t walk again.

The surgeon’s report came next. It made for fascinating reading, many of the procedures quite new in the field. He concentrated fiercely on each detail until he understood exactly what damage ha been done and what repairs had been made. The end of the report showed quite clearly the frustration of the surgeon – further improvement was prevented by the patient’s lack of cooperation and depression. 

Gathering everything together, Stiles began replacing the contents in the envelope when he realised there was something still inside. Upending the envelope, he caught the stiff piece of paper that fell out. It wasn’t just a piece of paper – it was a photograph. Stunned he stared at the image in front of him: it was obviously Derek Hale as he had been, sat on a boat in just swimming shorts, shades hiding his eyes. He black hair was tousled by the breeze, a rakish grin splitting his tanned face. He was in good condition, muscles obviously from activity rather than the gym – not bulky looking but strong.

[ ](https://imgur.com/pV6qyfw)

Stiles almost wanted to refuse the case simply to demonstrate to Chris Argent and Alan Deaton that he couldn’t be manipulated, but he knew that he wouldn’t. He wanted to meet the man in this photo – wanted to help him regain his joy for life and, with hard work, his ability to walk. He stared down at the photograph, lost in memories he rarely gave himself the indulgence of remembering. He couldn’t recall ever having such a visceral reaction to a man before – he just didn’t allow himself to fall into that trap. Relationships were not something he was adept at and he accepted that as just fact. He’d worked with athletes, models – people from all walks of life – and he always walked away free and clear. Somehow, he wasn’t sure that would be the case with Derek Hale, but in spite of his misgivings, he knew he was going to find out.

* * *


	3. Welcome to Beacon Hills

Stiles slept deeply and well that night, rising early to complete his packing. He had the feeling Chris Argent was an early riser and he was proven correct when a knock came on his door just after 8 a.m.. He didn’t seem even remotely surprised to see that Stiles was up and packed. 

“I knew you’d take the job.”

“Are you always so sure of yourself, Mr Argent?” Slightly irritated at being so obvious, Stiles climbed into the SUV, settling himself comfortably into the leather seat. 

“Please, call me Chris,” he said, starting the car and driving competently in the direction of the airport. “I’m not always so sure of myself, but Dr Deaton told me how much you like a challenge and Derek is most definitely that.”

“Hmm, I’ll have to speak to him about giving away my secrets.”

“Oh don’t worry – you still have many mysteries.” Stiles glanced at Chris, wondering what he was alluding to but when Chris just smiled at him blandly, he nodded and turned to look at the passing scenery. 

Once they were safely on the private plane, Stiles took the opportunity to interrogate Chris on everything he needed to know about Derek Hale: his hobbies, his passions, dislikes – everything that could potentially have an impact on what Stiles needed to do. 

“Does he have a wife? Or a girlfriend? I’ve noticed you haven’t mentioned any significant others.”

“No, Derek isn’t married and he doesn’t have a steady partner.” Stiles noted the careful use of the word partner, rather than girlfriend. “Your biggest obstacle may be his sister, Laura. She’s the main ‘woman’ in his life.”

“You seem to be very well informed about Mr Hale.”

“I should be – I’m his VP for one thing. And I happen to be married to Laura.”

“Ah, I see. So why will she be such an obstacle? Do you live in the same house as Mr Hale?”

“No, but that doesn’t really mean anything. Since his accident, Laura has hovered over him, and I’m sure she won’t be pleased when you arrive and take all of his attention. She’s always adored Derek, to the point of obsession if you ask me. She nearly went insane when we thought he would die.”

“I won’t allow any interference in my therapy programme,” Stiles warned him quietly, filing away all of the things that Chris _hadn’t_ said. “I’ll be overseeing his hours, his visitors, the food he eats, even the phone calls he receives. I hope your wife understands that.”

“I’ll try my best to convince her, but Laura is just like Derek – she’s both stubborn and determined, and she has a key to the house.”

“I’ll have to look into getting the locks changed.” Chris looked over at him in surprise, and Stiles smiled. “I thought Deaton had told you my methods could be – unconventional.”

“He did mention it, yes. As for the locks – good. “Chris approved, his frown disappearing. “I’d like very much to have a wife again.”

Regardless of his motivation, Stiles was pleased that he seemed to have Chris on-board. Evidently, in the two years since the accident, Laura had abandoned her husband in favour of doting on her brother, thereby slowly eroding her marriage. Stiles didn’t want to get involved but he wasn’t above using it to achieve his own ends.

* * *

Because of the time difference, it was only mid-afternoon when they arrived in Beacon Hills. They were met at the airport by yet another SUV, their luggage moved efficiently from the plane to the vehicle. Once again, Chris drove and Stiles was free to enjoy the scenery and gear himself up for what was to come. He had no idea if Laura would be there, or the greeting he would receive from Derek himself, so he tried to prepare himself for all eventualities. 

The house itself was beautiful – a white sprawling hacienda type of building, with luscious greenery that was obviously well taken care of. Chris pointed out the driveway that led to the garages around the back but parked the car at the front entrance, leading Stiles inside. Stiles was speechless with admiration for the architecture in the foyer when he heard the brisk sound of heels clicking and turned to face the lady who was making her way towards them.

It had to be Laura – the resemblance to the picture Stiles had seen was striking. She had long black hair that tumbled artfully around her face, dark blue eyes and the same clear-cut features. However, she wasn’t laughing as the man in the photo had been, and her eyes were stormy and outraged.

“Chris!” she said in a low, wrathful tone. “Where the hell have you been for two days? How dare you disappear without a word then turn up with this – _hobo_ in tow!”

Stiles chuckled at her description of himself – most women wouldn’t have gone straight on the attack but Laura Hale – or was it Argent? – didn’t strike him as _most_ women. He opened his mouth to respond, but Chris beat him to the punch.

“Stiles,” he said, giving his wife a cold glare. “I’d like to introduce my wife, Laura. Laura, this is Stiles Stilinski. I’ve hired Mr Stilinski as Derek’s new therapist, and I’ve been to Florida to pick him up and bring him back here. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going because I had no intentions of explaining myself or arguing about the matter. Mr Stilinski is, if not the best, one of the best in his field and I have the utmost trust in his abilities. Now, I hope that answers all of your questions – I would so hate to leave you uninformed.” 

Laura had the decency to blush, and turned to Stiles and said frankly, “I apologise, although I refuse to take all of the blame. If my husband had seen fit to inform me of his intentions, I would have been slightly better prepared. May I ask – what kind of name is Stiles?”

“No need to apologise – I can imagine I would have been less than polite in similar circumstances. And my given name is Polish and vaguely unpronounceable – Stiles is a nickname I’ve had since childhood.” He smiled at her, pleased when she responded in kind. He didn’t want to make an enemy of her if he could help it, and starting off on an amicable foot made sense.

Laura smiled at him in return, and the resemblance to Derek became even more striking – they both had the same devil-may-care look to them when they smiled, and he could only imagine the trouble they got into when they were growing up.

She stepped forward and gave her husband a belated kiss on the cheek, wiping away the smudge of lipstick she left behind. 

“You’re forgiven, darling, but I could have told you that you’re wasting your time.” She sighed. “Derek won’t put up with it – he can’t stand having someone hover him, and I think he’s been pushed on and pounded enough.”

“Evidently not, or he’d be walking by now.” Laura gave him a sharp glance, then shrugged. 

“I still think you’re wasting your time. Derek refused to have anything to do with the last therapist Chris hired and I can’t see him changing his mind for you. No offence meant, of course.”

“Oh, none taken.” Deciding they had clashed enough, Stiles turned to the next important step. “I’d like to speak to him myself if that’s alright.”

Laura had stationed herself between Stiles and wide archway he assumed led to Derek’s room. She looked very much like a mama bear prepared to fight for her cub – it wasn’t unusual. When a family member went through something this traumatic, it could do a lot of damage to the mental state of others in the family, and it made sense that she would be feeling protective.

“At this time of day, Derek is usually in his room – let me take you.” Chris took Stiles by the arm, leading him towards Laura who either had to step out of the way or be bulldozed by the man’s actions. Stiles winced internally at the visible signs of stress in the marriage but reminded himself that it was none of his business.

“Chris! He’s lying down for a nap! At least let him have some peace until he wakes up. You know how badly he sleeps at night – let him rest while he can!”

“Does he nap every day?” Stiles found himself thinking that if Derek napped every day, then little wonder he didn’t sleep at night. 

Laura bit her lip. “He tries to nap, but to be honest he normally looks worse when he gets up.”

“Then it won’t matter if we disturb him then.” Open-mouthed, Laura finally stepped out of the way and Stiles followed Chris as he advanced. He caught a faint twitch of Chris’s lips, signalling a smile, then he was directed to a broad, sweeping staircase that looked like it belonged on a film set. Behind them, Stiles could feel the heat of Laura’s glare, then the tap-tap of her heels as she followed them up the stairs.

* * *


	4. Not the Man He Used to Be

The enormous room that Chris tapped on before entering was flooded with sunlight streaming through the open curtains, and Stiles could see sliding glass doors that looked like they led to a gallery of sorts.

The man at the window was silhouetted against the bright sunlight, a mysterious and melancholy figure slumped in the prison of a wheelchair. Then he reached out and pulled a cord, closing the curtains and dimming the room. Stiles let his eyes adjust to the sudden darkness, but as the man became clear to him, he felt his throat tighten in shock.

Chris had done his best to prepare Stiles, and he had thought he was ready, but inwardly he was horrified. He hadn’t realised how serious the situation was and he could now fully understand why Chris had been so persistent. If it hadn’t been for the vague similarities between the man in the chair and Laura, he would _never_ have realised that this was the man from the photograph. 

Pale eyes were dull and lifeless; he was thin – painfully so – and appeared to have lost a good fifty pounds since the photograph had been taken. His black hair lay dull, limp and lifeless on his forehead – most likely due to poor nutrition – and it was shaggy and unkempt. His skin was no longer a deep golden tan – instead, he looked wan, his face all high cheekbones and gaunt cheeks.

Never before had Stiles felt such rage at the unfairness of life. For such a vital man to be reduced to this seemed the height of injustice, and he accepted that what Chris Argent had said to him had been completely true: Derek Hale did not want to live.

Derek looked at him without even the slightest amount of interest, then moved his gaze to Chris as if Stiles didn’t exist. “Where have you been? Laura has been worried sick.” His voice was surprisingly soft, although the tone was completely flat. It appeared that he was completely disinterested in Chris’ response apart from how it pertained to Laura. 

“I had business to attend to,” Chris replied, appearing to bristle at the questioning. Chris might work for Derek but he certainly did not seem to appreciate his actions being questioned. Stiles could imagine that they clashed regularly before the accident – he wondered if they had been ‘good’ clashes? 

Laura stepped forward, moving to her brother’s side as though aligning herself with him, and Stiles noted that Chris stiffened at the implication. That marriage was heading towards severe trouble if the two of them didn’t hash some things out. 

“I’m sorry, Derek, but he’s so determined. He’s hired another therapist for you – this is Miles Stilinski.”

“Stiles,” he corrected, judging Laura just a little for the cheap shot. 

Derek turned his gaze back to Stiles and surveyed him without saying a thing. Stiles knew what he was seeing and waited for judgement. He was wearing clean skinny jeans in dark denim, a white tee-shirt bearing the logo from the latest Avengers movie, and a red and black plaid shirt open over the top. His converse were rainbow coloured, with electric blue laces that clashed – it was hardly the look of a professional physiotherapist and it went some way in explaining Laura’s initial reaction to him. His hair was a mass of tousled spikes, his normally pale skin honeyed by his time in the sun despite copious amounts of sunscreen so that his moles did not stand out quite as much as they usually did. 

There was a long silence before Derek turned his head slowly in a negative motion. “No. Just take him away, Chris. I don’t want to be bothered.”

Stiles spared Chris a glance before stepping forward, taking control and forcing Derek’s attention onto him. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr Hale because I’m staying anyway. You see, I have a contract and I always honour my word.” 

Stiles felt Chris straighten slightly at the confirmation that he intended to accept the job, but kept his main focus on Derek. 

“I’ll release you from it,” he muttered, turning his head away as if that ended the conversation, staring out of the window once more.

“That’s super nice of you, but I won’t release _you_ from it. I’m given to understand that you’ve given Chris power of attorney, so the contract is quite legal and also ironclad. Would you like to know what it states?” Derek didn’t even turn away from the window so Stiles continued. “It states that I’m employed as your therapist and will reside in this house until you’re able to walk again – no time limit was set.”

Stiles stepped forward and leaned down, putting his hands on the arms of the wheelchair and caging Derek in, bringing his face close and forcing Derek to focus on him. “I’m going to become your very annoying shadow for the foreseeable future, Mr Hale. And the only way you’re going to be able to get rid of me is if you can walk me to the door and kick my ass out of it.”

“You are **more** than overstepping yourself, Mr Stilinski!” Laura sounded outraged, reaching out and throwing Stiles’ hands off the chair. “My brother has said that he doesn’t want you here and I will escort you off the property myself if need be.”

Barely sparing her a glance, Stiles folded his arms. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“It absolutely does! If you think for one second I’ll let you move in here – we will not be your meal ticket for life!”

“For life? Phht! I’ll have Mr Hale walking by Christmas. If you doubt my credentials – or your husband’s ability to do his research efficiently – then, by all means, feel free to investigate my record. But in the meantime, stop interfering.” Stiles stood straight and tall, aware that he presented a different figure than he had downstairs. He no longer looked casual and laid-back, his attitude far more confrontational.

“Don’t talk to my sister like that!” Derek said sharply, and inwardly Stiles gave a fist-bump of triumph. At last – a response that showed that _some_ fire still remained. With no compunction, he attacked the crack that had appeared in Derek’s mask of indifference. “I’ll talk to anyone who tries to come between me and my patient however I damned well please.” He let his lip curl, hands on his hips as he surveyed the man in front of him. “Look at you! You’re in such pitiful shape, if you were served up for Thanksgiving, people would be looking for another bird! You should be ashamed of yourself for letting your muscles turn into mush – no wonder you can’t walk!”

The pale eyes flashed up at him, and Stiles was struck by the stormy green colour. The shades he had been wearing in the photograph had hidden the amazing kaleidoscope of colours, and even in the state he was in now, Stiles could see that Derek Hale was a beautiful looking man. 

“Fuck you! It’s hard to do callisthenics when you’re hooked up to more tubes than you have places for, and **nothing** except your face works when you want it to!”

“That was then – what’s your excuse now? It takes muscles to walk and you certainly don’t have any!”

“What, and you’re going to wave some kind of magic wand and put me together again?”

“Magic wand? This isn’t Harry Potter and I never did go to Hogwarts! No, Mr Hale, you are going to work damned hard – harder than you may have ever worked in your life! You’re going to sweat and hurt, and judging by your language, turn the air blue but I **will** have you walking again even if I have to half-kill you to do it.”

Derek Hale gave him a look of cold deliberation, menace in his eyes giving his face a scary cast. “No, you won’t. I don’t care what the hell your contract says, I don’t want you in my house. I’ll pay whatever it takes to get rid of you.”

“As if I would accept a pay-off from you! Are you so used to throwing your money at problems that you don’t know how to work them out for yourself?” Looking into Derek’s enraged face, Stiles realised that the photograph had been misleading. It had given the impression that Derek was a laughing, easy-going man whereas now Stiles could see the stubbornness and determination that Chris had spoken of. Now, this was a challenge Stiles could sink his teeth into.“Do you _enjoy_ making everyone feel sorry for you?"

Laura gasped and out of the corner of his eye, Stiles saw Chris take an aborted step forward before bringing himself back under control. Ignoring them both, he kept his attention on Derek, watching the shock in his eyes at being spoken to in that manner, angry colour washing his face. 

“You little bastard!”

“Actually, my parents were married but that’s despite the point. I’m becoming bored with this pointless conversation. How about this – you’re so weak at this point, even little old me could beat you easily at, say, arm-wrestling? If I win, I stay and you agree to work for with me at therapy. If _you_ win, I walk out of the door and never come back. What do you say?”

* * *


	5. Challenge Accepted

Derek’s head jerked up, his eyes narrowing as they swept over Stiles’ lean form. Stiles knew what he saw – the image he presented was not that different from when he had been at school and college. 147 lbs of pale skin and sarcasm were how he had once been described. Few people realised how much muscle and strength was hidden beneath that pale skin; few people realised that his casual attitude and friendly exterior masked a will of iron. It appeared that Derek Hale was about to make the same mistake as most people.

Derek had been inactive for over two years; he was weakened by the operations as well as the inactivity and he was underestimating Stiles. Massively.

“Don’t do it!” Laura spoke sharply, twisting her hands together. 

Derek turned and looked at his sister in disbelief as well a little outrage. “You think _he_ can beat me?” He waited a moment for his sister to deny it but the look on Laura’s face said it all. “Really, Laura?” 

Laura turned her gaze onto Stiles, the silent pleading in her eyes conveying quite clearly that she was begging Stiles not to humiliate her brother. But that was most definitely not Stiles’ intention – he just needed to get across to Derek how far he had let himself slide. And get him to agree to participate in therapy.

“Answer me!” Derek roared, his voice loud in the strained silence of the room. Laura stiffened, obviously not appreciating being shouted at.

“Yes, I think he can beat you! Derek – don’t do this to yourself!” Silence fell and Derek sat as if turned to stone. The lack of faith from his sister seemed to have hit him hard, and Stiles wanted to get this over with so that they could move on before Derek became apathetic again.

“There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” he challenged, turning the wheelchair with a quick pressure of his finger on a pad on the arm-rest. 

“You shouldn’t have a motorised chair – manual chair would have kept your upper body strength at a reasonable level. Don’t get me wrong – this is an awesome chair and some of my previous clients could really benefit from it but – “

“Quit stalling!” Following Derek to his desk, Stiles shrugged and sat in a chair. Chris and Laura flanked them as they got into position, Derek taking his time to make sure he was in the optimum place. Stiles knew it would make little difference and he took no joy in the knowledge. This was merely a necessary step in getting things started.

Derek had the advantage of a longer forearm, and Stiles calculated it would take some manoeuvring to overcome that disadvantage. 

“Chris – you start it,” Derek instructed, locking eyes with Stiles aggressively. He could almost _feel_ the intensity of Derek’s drive to win and it boded well for therapy if he could get some of that determination and stubbornness to work for him. 

“Go.” There was no sudden flurry of movement, nothing to indicate the battle of both wills and strength that was underway. Stiles kept his face impassive as he saw Derek realised he had underestimated his opponent, trying to use the leverage he had to force Stiles’ arm down. He could feel Derek’s first burst of strength ebbing, and unwilling to drag things out, he began to inexorably force his arm down. Sweat broke out on Derek’s forehead as he struggled to halt the motion, reverse things as Stiles bore downwards until Derek’s hand hit the table with a small ‘thunk’.

Derek looked shattered for a moment before he shuttered his face, and the silence was only broken by his heavy breathing. Stiles moved briskly, rising to his feet and turning to their audience. “That settles that. In another two months, I won’t be able to do that. I’ll put my things in the room next to this one – “

“No,” Derek spoke curtly, refusing to look at Stiles. “Laura, give Mr Stilinski the guest suite.”

“Sorry, dude, but that won’t work at all. I need to be close enough to you to hear if you call. The room next door will do nicely. Chris, how soon can you make the changes we discussed?”

“What changes? You’re not messing with my house!”

“I need some special equipment. And we just established that for the moment, I’m the boss and what I say goes.” Stiles noted that the diversion had worked and that Derek was already getting over his loss. He was going to have to be quick on his feet if he wanted to stay ahead of his patient. 

“Fine,” Derek said grumpily, heavy brows furrowing over his eyes. “What sort of special equipment?”

“A whirlpool is a necessity. I’ll also be having a treadmill, sauna, weight bench and a few other things installed. Don’t worry – it will add to the value of the property.” Stiles saw the flash of anger cross Derek’s face at the implication that he needed to be concerned about finances – Stiles had done some research of his own and had some idea of how well-off his new client was. Besides, Stiles didn’t come cheap and Chris hadn’t batted an eyelid at the retainer fee.

“Where the hell do you plan on putting all of this?”

“Chris assured me he could outfit a gym for me on the ground floor, next to the pool, which you will more than come to appreciate. Water is a great place for callisthenics – which I’m sure your other therapists tried to inform you – and your muscles will get a workout while the water supports your weight.”

“Wait a minute – surely you don’t expect him to be in the water without – “

“You’re not putting in a gym!” Derek and Laura spoke at the same time, both in a tone that brooked no refusal. 

“Read my contract – the gym is going in. Don’t make a fuss – I’ve had Olympic athletes working in gyms I’ve set up and they’ve been happy.” Stiles smirked at the look on Derek’s face – needling the other man into a reaction might become his favourite new pastime. “It’s going to be hard work and painful, but I will have you walking by Christmas, at which point you can kick my ass out of your house. I refuse to let you spoil my record.”

The longing that crossed Derek’s face at the mere idea of walking by Christmas was terrible to see. He raised a thin hand to hide his expression, before once more smoothing his face out. “You won the right to be here. For now. But I don’t like you, Mr Stilinski. Chris – I want to see a copy of that contract.”

“I’m sorry, Derek, I don’t seem to have one on me. I’ll get it to you as soon as possible.” Stiles hid a smile at Chris’ obvious insincere response. “The next time I come over.” Grasping his wife by the arm, Chris steered her towards the door, nodding at Stiles just as they left.

Stiles smiled at Derek and waited. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Don’t you have anything else to do other than to stare at me?” 

“I certainly do – I was merely allowing you to interrogate me further – sorry, ask me any questions.”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are, Mr Stilinski.”

“Call me Stiles – it’ll be faster when you want to scream at me.” Smiling once more at the look of outrage that crossed Derek’s face, Stiles turned and left the room, the sound of something heavy hitting the door coming through loud and clear.

* * *


	6. Good Morning Sunshine!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a physiotherapist, so please excuse any glaring errors.
> 
> * * *

Stiles spent a short amount of time exploring the house, pleased to discover that someone had brought his bags in and placed them into the room next to Derek’s as requested. There was no sign of Chris or Laura, so he could only assume they had either gone to their own home or found a quiet place to have the row that was brewing under the surface. 

A quick wash-up in the ensuite bathroom and he made his way downstairs once more, this time in search of any staff that might be present. He needed everyone’s cooperation and although it might have been easier to meet these people and lay down the law according to Stilinski if Chris had been around to introduce him, he was relieved that Laura wasn’t around. He found the kitchen without difficulty, though the cook who occupied it took him greatly by surprised. A dainty looking red-head with striking green eyes, he wasn’t expecting to be assessed so thoroughly, and with such calculation.

Quickly, Stiles introduced himself and explained why he was there. The woman washed her hands and dried them with unhurried, efficient motions, then held her hand out. Stiles took it.

“My name is Lydia Martin – I’m the estate manager for all of the Hale homes.”

“Oh, I’m sorry – I was looking for the cook or housekeeper.”

“Don’t apologise. I look after Derek personally because he supports my mathematical research. This is my way of relaxing.”

“I – see. I think.”

“Suffice it to say that some of my theories are a little out there, and many companies weren’t prepared to take a chance on me. Derek was – and as a sideline, I make sure his estates run like clockwork. I’m glad that he’s agreed to therapy.”

“He didn’t exactly _agree_ – I beat him at arm-wrestling and Chris hid the contract from him, so he couldn’t argue it point by point as I imagine he would have done. Regardless, I’m here and I’m staying and I’ll need everyone’s cooperation to handle him.” 

“If you can get Derek back to where he needs to be, you’ll have the support of the entire household,” she stated firmly. “There’s Boyd, who takes care of the grounds, estate security and drives Mr Hale as and when necessary; and his wife, Erica, who cleans the house and runs the place when I’m not here. They’ll both do what’s needed.”

Having met Lydia Martin, Stiles was in no doubt that any staff would do exactly as she requested. She was one of the most regal people Stiles had ever met and there was an underlying force to the woman that let Stiles know she would be an invaluable ally. 

He quickly outlined the diet he wanted Derek to follow, and explained why he wanted changes made as the last thing he wanted to do was offend Lydia. However, she simply nodded and said, “I understand.”

“If he gets angry – and hopefully he will – I need you to put all of the blame onto me,” Stiles said. “I _want_ him to be angry. I can use that but I can’t do much with indifference.”

“That sounds logical. And Derek is – _was_ – hotheaded on occasion. Using his temper against him will get you so far I would imagine. How will you manage once he realises what you’re doing?”

“Well, by then, he’ll be seeing results and that should be enough to get him working with me instead of against me.”

“So – can you help him walk again?” The blunt question came out of the blue, but Stiles appreciated her straightforwardness.

“If he lets me.” Lydia stared at him for a moment as though considering his sincerity before she gave another nod.

“There is one more obstacle. About Mr Hale’s sister – “

Lydia’s face gave absolutely nothing away as she nodded and stated “Yes.”

“Does she have a key to the house?” Their eyes met and Stiles felt the unspoken communication so strongly that he doubted very much that any words were necessary.

“I’ll have the locks changed – _if_ and when it proves necessary. Laura has been through a lot and locking her out might be counterproductive with Derek.”

“Thank you. It will be worth the benefits. I can’t have his routine interrupted once I get him started on it and I don’t have the energy to fight both Derek and his sister. Hopefully, Chris will be able to handle Laura.”

“That’s if he still wants to.” Lydia’s acerbic comment made Stiles give a little smile – obviously, he wasn’t the only one who had noted the friction between the married couple. 

“I think he does. He flew all the way out to get me and bring me back here – that doesn’t strike me as the move of someone who doesn’t want his wife back.”

“No, but he’s also very proud, and she has rather trampled on that over the last two years.”

“I don’t want to cause trouble between them, but I need Chris to keep Laura busy, at least in the initial stages.”

“Laura worships her brother. They raised each other – their entire family died in a fire when they were quite young and they were all that each other had.”

That explained a lot, and Stiles spared a moment of sympathy for both Chris and Laura. Laura because her foundations had been shaken and Chris because those were some big shoes to fill. Regardless, he didn’t have the mental space to consider those two – he needed to concentrate on Derek. He yawned widely and Lydia shoved him into a chair, sliding a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches in front of him.

“Here – you better eat if you’re going to be in any shape to take on Derek.”

* * *

Stiles’ alarm went off at 5.30 the next morning, and unlike while he had been on vacation when he woke up stumbling around and rubbing his eyes, now that he was back at work he was instantly awake and aware. It was a necessary party of the job – if a patient needed him, he couldn’t afford to be slow thinking or moving. He had the feeling that Derek was not going to be such a cheerful riser and his heartbeat sped up in anticipation of the challenge awaiting him. The morning was still cool but he knew that exertion would soon have him working up a sweat so he dressed appropriately in basketball shorts and a sleeveless tank. He did some quick warm-up exercises, then went to Derek’s door and tapped on it gently. 

“Good morning.” His voice wasn’t indecently cheerful but it did border on aggravating as he entered the room and walked to the curtains, yanking them open to let some light in. He turned to look at Derek, who was lying on his back, his legs positioned a little awkwardly as if he’d tried to move them during the night. He opened his eyes and Stiles saw the flare of panic in them as he twitched and tried to sit up, groping his legs before he remembered and he allowed himself to fall back, his face once more set in a bleak mask.

Stiles wondered just how often that happened, that Derek woke up, not remembering the accident and panic because he couldn’t move his legs? He determined grimly that it would become a thing of the past as he walked over and sat on the bed beside his new patient.

“Good morning.” Derek didn’t return the greeting, merely gracing Stiles with a black look. 

“What time is it?” He finally snapped when Stiles merely sat waiting.

“About six, maybe a little earlier.”

“What the fuck are you doing here this early in the morning?”

“Beginning your therapy,” he replied sweetly. He noted that Derek was wearing pyjama pants and a white sleeveless tank and he wondered if he could dress himself or whether he had help from Boyd? 

“No one in their right mind is up at this hour.” He gave Stiles one more glare, before closing his eyes and turning his face away. 

“Well, I’m not sure what that says about you and me, because we’re both up. Come on – we’ve got a lot to do today.” He stood and went to get the wheelchair, rolling it to the side of the bed before throwing back the covers. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Derek’s eyes snapped open, the anger in them obvious as he reached out an arm to whip the covers back over himself again. Ignoring Derek’s embarrassment, Stiles merely snatched the covers away again, throwing them in the direction of the bottom of the bed and out of Derek’s reach. With deft movements, he scooped Derek’s legs around until they were hanging off the side of the bed. “Get up – you need to go to the bathroom before we get started. Do you need any help?”

“No – I can go to the bathroom all by myself thanks Mommy dearest!”

“Well, there’s a good boy!” Stiles snarked right back. “I’m not your mother, I’m your therapist although the two do tend to have an awful lot in common. Now, up and at ‘em.” He held the chair whilst Derek laboriously levered himself into it, at which point he shot across the room and was in the adjoining bathroom before Stiles could react. When he heard the lock click, he laughed silently to himself. “Don’t think you can lock yourself in there all morning – I’ll take the door off the hinges if I have to!”

The string of epithets he heard through the door would have made any mother wash their kid’s mouth out with soap and Stiles knew he was in for a challenging and invigorating morning.

* * *


	7. Chocolate Pancakes

Derek timed it very nicely – he took just long enough for Stiles to think he might actually have to take the door off the hinges, but coming out just before he did something about it. He’d washed his face and combed his hair, looking slightly smug as he motored towards Stiles.

“Do you have any underwear on?”

“What?” His face froze in shock, and he gave Stiles a confused look.

“I didn’t realise you were experiencing hearing difficulties. I said, do you have any underwear on?”

“What business is it of yours?”

“Because I want your pyjamas off. If you don’t have any underwear on, you may want to grab a pair although it makes no difference to me. I’ve seen naked men before.”

“Yeah, I picked up that vibe from you.” Derek looked slightly ashamed at his nasty comment and his next remark was almost conciliatory. “Yes, I have underwear on. But I’m not taking off my pants for you.”

“Fine, don’t. I’ll just upend you on the bed and take them off myself. As you said, it wouldn’t be the first time.” Stiles smirked at the flush that mounted Derek’s cheeks. “Look, we’ve done the macho strength test – do we need to do it again?”

“Why do you need them off? It certainly can’t be because you want to admire my physique – if I recall correctly, you said if I was a Thanksgiving bird, you’d still be hungry afterwards.”

“Sting, did it?” With a scowl at Stiles, Derek yanked the sleeveless tank over his head and threw it across the room. It was obvious he would have liked to do the same with the pyjama pants but they were a bit more difficult to remove. Without a word, Stiles helped him back onto the bed, then pulled the garment down his thin legs and draped it over the arm of the wheelchair. “On your stomach.” Without giving Derek an opportunity to argue, Stiles deftly rolled him over.

“HEY!” he protested, his face smothered by the pillow. He swept the pillow aside, giving Stiles a venomous look over his shoulder. Unable to resist, Stiles popped the elastic on the waistband of the silk boxer shorts he was wearing, grinning at the flush of rage that washed over Derek’s entire torso. When Derek did not comment, Stiles began to firmly knead his shoulders and back. Derek kept his face turned resolutely away as Stiles worked up and down his torso. 

“I’m not a side of beef you’re preparing for dinner you know!”

“Don’t be such a delicate little baby! There’s a reason for this and before you say punishment, it’s to get your circulation going. That’s why your hands and feet are cold, even in bed. Muscles can’t work without a good blood supply.”

“Don’t tell me – your magical massage is going to get me leaping to my feet, shouting I’m cured?”

“Not likely. This is just the groundwork and I suggest you learn to like it because it’s going to be happening _a lot_.”

“Are you this charming with all of your patients?”

“You’re gonna have to work a lot harder than that to insult me, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude. My name is Derek.” Derek had turned his head again, watching Stiles as much as he could over his shoulder. Stiles moved down to his legs where it felt like there was very little in the way of flesh to massage, skin moving over bone. That would change. 

“I wasn’t sure whether I should be calling you sir or master.”

“That’s a bit kinky on one day’s acquaintance.” This time, Stiles knew the flush was embarrassment, Derek obviously having spoken without thinking. 

“So, it would be okay after a week then?” Seeming to realise he hadn’t upset Stiles with his comment, Derek refused to reply to the comment, merely closed his eyes and turned his face away again. Stiles didn’t mind the silence, continuing to work his way up and down Derek’s body. He shifted him over onto his back with minimal fuss, working on his arms, chest and hollow belly. A glance showed him that Derek was staring up at the ceiling, his face grim once more. As he moved down to begin working on his legs again, Derek spoke.

“How much longer is this going to go on?”

Stiles checked the time and realised that they had been working for just over an hour. “That should do for now. Exercise time!” Derek took it with ill grace when Stiles began to work his legs, bending them, forcing his knees up to his chest, repeating the motion over and over again.

“For God’s sake, will you stop it! This is a complete and utter waste of time!”

“What do you mean, a complete waste of time? Did you _really_ think an hour of massage and some leg exercises would have you leaping around like it was the fourth of July?!”

“I do not like being handled like so much putty!”

“More like C4, the way you explode! Okay, it’s time for breakfast anyway – I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“I’m not hungry,” Derek muttered before a startled look crossed his face. Stiles knew he had just realised that for the first time in a long while, he actually _was_ hungry. He helped him dress again which was enough to send him into another silent rage, and it was a sullen patient that accompanied Stiles downstairs in the elevator that had been installed especially for him. 

The sullen expression was replaced with outrage and horror when he saw what was on his plate, the look he sent Stiles almost enough to send him into fits of laughter. “What the hell is that?”

“Don’t worry – that’s not all you’re getting. That’s just what you’re starting with.” Derek continued to stare at his plate in silence. “Those are vitamins.”

Stiles had to admit the collection was impressive – Lydia had counted them out exactly as Stiles had requested and sixteen pills were waiting for Derek to take them. 

“I’m not taking them.”

“You are, even if I have to hold your nose and shove them down your throat. You need them – even more after a few days of therapy.” Derek sneered in his direction at the mention of therapy. “Besides, you don’t get anything else to eat until you’ve taken them.”

Their eyes clashed and Stiles watched as Derek decided whether or not it was a battle worth fighting. Decision made, he took the tablets in handfuls, washing them down with gulps of the water Lydia had provided. “There, look, Mommy, I’ve taken the damned things.”

“I’m beginning to think you’ve got a bit of a fetish there – sir, master, mommy. You can just call me Stiles, seriously.” Before Derek could reply, Lydia walked in with their breakfast trays. Derek looked at his grapefruit half, whole wheat toast, eggs, bacon and milk as if Lydia was serving him prison slop. 

“I want chocolate pancakes.”

“Sorry, that’s not on your diet.” Stiles gave Derek a saccharine smile. “Too sweet and empty calories Eat your grapefruit.”

“I don’t like grapefruit.” Derek was building himself up to exploding, and Lydia stepped back, folding her arms and watching. 

“You need the vitamin C.”

“I just took a fuck-ton of vitamin C!”

“Look, this is your breakfast,” Stiles said in a sickly sweet voice. “Eat it or do without. You are not getting chocolate pancakes.”

Derek lifted the plate and threw it at him.

Having expected something like that, Stiles ducked and the plate crashed against the wall behind him. Unable to hold off any longer, he began laughing – great whoops of laughter that had him holding his stomach in pain. Derek was so angry, his hair was almost standing on end, his pale eyes blazing in his face as he glared at Stiles. Amidst his laughter, Stiles observed as Lydia left the room, returning with an identical tray. Derek looked up at her in shock.

“He said you’d probably throw the first one!” The look on Derek’s face made Stiles laugh even harder!

* * *


	8. Hard Truths

Knowing that he’d acted exactly as Stiles had expected with the first tray left Derek slightly stymied with the second one. With a grumpy ‘thanks’ to Lydia, he then ate silently, shoving the food into his mouth as though it personally offended him.

He baulked when it came to the milk.

“I can’t stand milk. Surely coffee can’t hurt!” It pleased Stiles that Derek was attempting to be an adult – he wasn’t stamping his feet and refusing, he was explaining. It made a nice change.

“It won’t hurt but it won’t help either. How about this – you drink the milk and you can have a coffee? You need it for the calcium.” 

Without responding, Derek picked up the glass, took a deep breath, and drained it in one. He blushed when Lydia came out almost immediately with a cup of coffee as if she had been expecting it – he very definitely did not like to be seen as predictable. The remainder of the meal passed in relative peace, Derek making sure to say ‘sorry’ to Erica when she came through to clean up the mess left by the thrown plate.

“No problem, D-man – it’s kinda nice to see you throwing tantrums again – it’s like old times!” Stiles snorted at her comment and she threw him a smile. She was a stunning blonde, dressed in tight jeans and an off the shoulder sweater. Her lips were painted a stunning shade of red, and if he hadn’t been completely gay, Stiles could have envisioned panting after her. She seemed much more ‘human’ than Lydia, although she was a Goddess in her own right. It appeared that Derek surrounded himself with beautiful people – practical, capable – but beautiful.

Having leisurely finished his meal, Stiles wiped his mouth with his napkin before placing it onto his plate. “Time for more exercises.”

“NO!” Derek instantly roared back, having cleared his plate. “I’ve had enough for today! A little of you goes a long way, you – “

“Please just call me Stiles.”

“What kind of a name is Stiles anyway? Not that I want to call you anything – God, I just want you to leave me alone!” Erica left the room, sparing a grin for Stiles before she shut the door. 

“I promise I will leave you alone – “ Derek almost smiled “ – when my job here is complete. I’ve told you – I’m not going to allow you to ruin my record.”

“I’ve got something you can ruin with your record!”

“Why, Derek, you’re incredibly forward – we barely know each other!” Derek stabbed at the buttons on his wheelchair, giving Stiles a scorching look when it jerked backwards in protest at the rough treatment. 

“I don’t want to see your face again!” Derek shouted as the chair rolled out of the room at speed, and Stiles turned to the door as Erica popped her head through.

“It would appear that you have read Derek quite well – for now.”

“Yes, well – let’s see how he copes with the next stage, shall we?” They shared a smile as Erica cleared the table, and Stiles made his leisurely way up to gallery that led to Derek’s room, having decided that he’d had enough time to get over his tantrum. 

Derek regarded Stiles broodingly from his chair, his dark brows furrowed over his eyes, his mouth set in a rebellious twist. Stiles found himself wondering what Derek had been like as a child, the idea of a miniature version of that face making him smile. He walked over, putting his hand onto Derek’s shoulder. 

“Look, Derek, I know this is difficult – I can’t promise that _any_ of this will be easy. But at least _try_ to trust me. I really am good at my job. And if you can’t trust me, perhaps put a little trust into the idea that Chris has done his research and is looking out for you.”

“This isn’t about Chris – if I can’t walk, why should I give a shit about my health? Do you think I _want_ to live like this? I would rather have died outright than gone through the last two years!”

Stiles tilted his head, giving Derek a considering look. “Have you always given up so easily?”

“Easily!” He jerked back, knocking Stiles’ hand off his shoulder. “You don’t know anything about it” You have no idea what it’s like – “

“I can tell you what it isn’t like,” Stiles interrupted. “It isn’t like looking down at a sheet where your legs used to be and seeing nothing; it isn’t learning to type by holding a stylus in your mouth because you’re paralysed from the neck down. Not to belittle your situation, but I’ve seen and worked with people who are in a much worse place than you were when you _first_ had your accident. You are going to walk again because I’m going to make you, but you’re going to work for it.”

“I don’t want to hear about other people! Do you think I haven’t heard the platitudes from people about how bad it could have been? Those other people aren’t me – this is _my_ life and I know what I want out of it, and what I can’t – what I won’t accept!“

“Work? Pain? Effort? You’re right – if you won’t accept any of those, then you might as well roll yourself back into bed and give up right now. But, Mr Hale, if you are prepared to put in a **lot** of those three things, then surely if there’s even the slimmest chance that you could walk again, wouldn’t you go for it? Wouldn’t you think it’s worth taking the chance?”

Derek looked utterly weary, his voice sounding the same. “I don’t know. I – if I thought there was the slightest chance then – but, Stiles – I can’t move my legs at all.”

It was the first time he had called Stiles by his given name and it was a landmark.

“I know. You can’t expect to move them right away. We’re going to have to retrain your nerve impulses, build up your muscles and your core strength before you’ll be able to move them. It will take several months and I can’t promise you won’t have a sexy limp, but you will walk again – _if_ you cooperate with me.” Stiles looked Derek in the eye so that he could see his sincerity, know that he was completely confident. “Now, how about we start those exercises?”

* * *

Although he demonstrated no enthusiasm, Derek submitted to the exercises. Stiles didn’t need his enthusiasm: his muscles didn’t know that Derek threw scowls in Stiles’ direction often – the movement, the stimulation was what counted. Stiles worked tirelessly, alternating between the exercises and massaging his entire body.

It was almost ten-thirty when the now-familiar sound of Laura’s heels clicking on the tile could be heard approaching the door. Stiles lifted his head, as did Derek.

“No!” he said. “Don’t let her see me like this – she – “

“Okay.” Stiles moved to the door, arriving in time to act as a barrier to Laura who had just raised her hand to knock. 

Laura looked startled to see him.

“Oh! Is Derek awake? I was just going to stick my head around the door – he doesn’t normally wake before noon.”

Well, that explained Mr Grumpy-pants at being woken just after six. 

“I’m giving him his exercises now.”

“This early?” Laura’s brows arched in amazement. “Okay, well, I’m certain you’ve done enough for the day. Since he’s up so early, I would imagine he’s ready for his breakfast. He normally eats so badly, I like to make sure he doesn’t miss any meals. I’ll just go in and see what he’d like, although knowing his partiality to chocolate pancakes – “

Stiles stepped sidewards to block Laura’s attempt to move past him, and she looked at him in complete disbelief. 

“I’m very sorry, Mrs Argent, but he’s already had his breakfast. I’m instigating a schedule that I will need to keep him on so a break now isn’t possible. After another hour of exercises, we’ll come downstairs for some lunch if you’d like to wait until then? I’m sure Lydia or Erica can make you some of what we’re having?”

He tried to be gentle but firm as he spoke to her, knowing that this had the potential to blow up. Laura had obviously had a lot invested in her brother if she scheduled her meals to his – did she visit every single day? If so, it was little wonder that Chris wanted his wife back. 

Laura drew herself up to her fullest height, her cheeks flushed with anger. “Are you saying – I’m sorry, Mr Stilinski – but are you trying to say I can’t see my own brother?”

* * *


	9. Hale vs Stilinski

Stiles took a deep breath. He really didn’t want to make an enemy of Laura, but he couldn’t keep fighting the same battles with her every day.

“At the moment, no. We need to complete these exercises.”

“Does Derek know that I’m here?” Her voice was imperious, the tone of a woman used to be obeyed. God-damn, but Derek seemed to like surrounding himself with these Amazons. 

“He knows. He would rather you don’t see him like this – the exercises are tiring and he is – wearing less than he usually does so may be feeling self-conscious.” Instantly, Laura backed down, not wanting to embarrass her brother. Stiles made a note that it was a good tactic although he did wonder how long he would be able to use it. 

“Oh – OH! Yes, I see – I completely understand. I’ll be downstairs. Thank you, Stiles.” So he was Stiles when he was doing what she wanted and Mr Stilinski when she was displeased with him. Hurt shimmered in Laura’s eyes for a moment – perhaps that her brother would be embarrassed around her at all? – but then she turned away and headed back the way she had come. Wounded emotions were written in every line of her straight back – it wasn’t unusual for the relatives of patients to become somewhat jealous of suddenly being excluded. There was an intimacy necessary between therapist and patient that, although fleeting, could make others feel like they were being pushed aside. Laura had got used to being Derek’s ‘person’ and was struggling with the idea that it might become someone else’s position. In Derek’s case, there was nothing to worry about – the only emotion he seemed to feel for Stiles was hostility.

When he re-entered the bedroom, Derek twisted his head around to stare at him. “Has she gone?”

“She’s gone downstairs to wait for you to come down for lunch. Hopefully, that means you won’t be throwing anything in my direction?”

“It depends on what you try to feed me!” Despite his comment, Stiles could see that Derek was relieved that Laura had been headed off. “Thank you for not letting her in – she kinda went to pieces when the accident happened. I think she’d have hysterics if she could see what I really look like now.” His eyes darkened with remembered pain. “Laura is very special to me – we practically raised each other. I’m all the family that she has.”

“No, you’re not – she has Chris.”

“Not so much – he’s so wrapped up in his work, he seldom seems to remember that she’s alive.” Derek looked deeply dissatisfied with the state of affairs.

“He didn’t seem that way to me – he came to fetch me after all. But then, what do I know?” Derek gave Stiles a sharp glance, but he was pleased to see that it had given the other man something to think about as he began the exercises again. Perhaps Derek might prove an ally in getting Laura to see her husband again? Not that Stiles was interested in playing matchmaker – it would simply make his job easier if he wasn’t having to fight such an intense relationship. 

The exercises were tiring, boring work – tiring for Stiles, boring for Derek – and when the other man made disgruntled noises, Stiles decided that it was time to stop for now. 

“Jesus, I need a shower before lunch – I don’t think Lydia would accept my presence smelling the way I do at the moment.”

“Well, you don’t exactly look fresh as a daisy!”

“So polite – I thought you might say something about my stench but you’ve surprised me! Perhaps it was how entertaining and kind I’ve been to you today?”

“Don’t push your luck!” He was glad that Derek felt able to banter with him – it was important because they were going to become incredibly close over the next few months. Stiles would rapidly become Derek’s best friend in the world – at least for the time he was there. Once Derek returned to the real world, Stiles would fade into insignificance – that was the way things had always worked and Stiles accepted it. That was why he tried never to become _too_ attached to his patients – what they felt for him was transitory, and Stiles could never afford to forget that. 

While he was helping Derek dress, fortunately not angering him quite as much as it had earlier that day, Derek came up with a suggestion.

“If we keep this up, you’ll be spending half of your time dressing and undressing me. Why don’t I just wear a pair of gym shorts – I can put on a robe before we eat. I’m sure Lydia or Erica would be happy to bring our meals up here to save some time.”

Stiles hid his pleasure, merely saying, “Good thinking, dude.” From a practical standpoint, Derek was correct but it also had the added side benefit of excluding Laura from most of their meals, which would hopefully help the situation drastically. He was glad he hadn’t had to make the suggestion himself.

* * *

Stiles was feeling quite satisfied with the morning’s achievements as he walked into the dining alongside Derek’s chair, but the feeling was shattered when Laura practically dive-bombed Derek as soon as he entered the room, her face awash with tears.

“Oh, Derek!”

Derek was instantly alert, taking her hand.

“What is it – what’s wrong?”

“I was out on the patio while I waited for you and – Mother’s bench – it’s been completely ruined! They’ve turned the entire area into a madhouse – it’s a complete mess!”

“What? What are you talking about?” 

“ _His_ gym! They’ve torn up the entire patio!” She pointed at Stiles accusingly, and he gave her a dark look before turning to Derek.

“I sincerely doubt it’s _that_ bad.” Stiles tried to sound reasonable. “Chris is supervising the renovation and installation of the equipment and I doubt he would let anything be damaged.”

“Come and see for yourself then, if you’re so sure.” Not wanting to say that he was defending _her_ husband, Stiles simply nodded and replied.

“I think we should have lunch first – it would be a shame if it got cold while we were outside.”

“Are you stalling, Mr Stilinski?” Ah, so he was back to being Mr Stilinski.

“I told you that I didn’t want this house changed.”

“Look, I can’t confirm or deny something I haven’t seen. I haven’t been outside because I have been with you for the entire morning, as you well know. However, I trust Chris’s good sense, even if neither of you seems to.” Laura flushed furiously and Derek gave him a sharp glare.

“It is not my husband I don’t trust,” Laura began heatedly, but Derek cut off her words with a wave of his hand. 

“Not now,” he said shortly. “I want to see the patio.” His voice held a tone of command, someone who was more than used to people doing as they were told, and although Laura stopped speaking, she looked sullen. 

“Fine by me, but don’t complain about lunch being cold.” Stiles gave a mocking tilt to his head, following Derek and Laura as they headed out to the patio. It was the first time Stiles had been out onto the patio, and he was impressed that Chris had organised everything on such short notice. The actual area was beautifully landscaped, cool and fragrant, a testament to Boyd and his hard work. The patio itself was disorganised as the workers that Chris had hired had obviously used it to store the pool furniture that was in the way, as well as the materials they didn’t need straight away.

However, it looked like they had been careful not to disturb any of the plants scattered artfully around, and Stiles found himself feeling more and more doubtful of the damage Laura was accusing them of. Laura walked swiftly to what appeared to be a lovely bench, pointing to long gouge on its side.

“See!” She sounded triumphant, giving Stiles a scalding glance. 

Derek’s eyes flashed with anger as he wheeled forward, examining the groove in the bench before turning to Stiles. “I see it. It appears, Mr Stilinski, that your workers have damaged a bench that I consider priceless – it was a gift to my mother from my father and one of the few things to survive the fire. I told you that I didn’t want anything done to my house – I think we should call this whole thing off and you should remove yourself from the premises.”

His tone was coldly angry and Stiles felt a prickle down his spine. He wouldn’t want to face Derek if he was truly angry, and he was feeling distressed about the bench. He could well understand the sentimental value of such an item – he had nothing remaining of his childhood to remember either of his parents by. It was a damned shame – they had seemed to be making such progress and now things were coming to an end before they could really get started.

* * *


	10. Unexpected Appeal

To give himself time to think, Stiles moved over and bent down to examine the scarred wood. Thoughtfully, he ran his fingers over the gouge; a glance at Laura caught a hint of apprehension in her expressive eyes. What could she be worried about? A closer glance revealed the cause of her concern: the bench was undoubtedly damaged, but the gouge was old enough to be weathered. It most certainly had not been done that morning.

Stiles could have accused Laura of deliberately trying to cause trouble, but he didn’t because part of him understood. Laura obviously saw Derek as her entire world – she was fighting for the brother she loved, attempting to shield him from possible disappointment, as well as attempting to maintain her position. Stiles couldn’t fault her for that. But it did mean he was going to have to seriously consider attempting to separate Laura from Derek for the remainder of his treatment so that he could work without constant interruptions or battles such as this. He would have to speak to Chris again.

“I can completely understand why you’re both upset,” he said mildly, “but this mark wasn’t made this morning.” He pointed at the wood. “It isn’t a fresh scar, see? At a guess, I’d say this has been here for a few weeks.”

Derek moved his wheelchair closer once more but Laura remained where she was, confirming Stiles’ guess that she had already known. 

“You’re right,” Derek sighed. “In fact, I think I’m the responsible party.”

“What on earth do you mean?” Laura gasped, stepping neatly to Derek’s side and in the process moving Stiles away from her brother.

“I was out here a few weeks ago and I bumped the wheelchair into the bench. I didn’t realise at the time but – you can see the gouge is the same height as my wheel hub. I’m so sorry Laura – this is one of the last things we have of Mother and – “

“Oh, please don’t blame yourself, Derek!” Laura clutched his hand. “It doesn’t matter in the scheme of things – let’s go inside and eat, you look completely exhausted.”

Stiles barely stopped himself snorting at her comment: if anyone should be exhausted, it would be him. He managed to restrain himself from saying anything, merely following them into the house and back to the dining room. Fortunately, there was no repeat of the plate-throwing incident, but Laura made a point of talking about things that Stiles knew nothing about, excluding him from the entire conversation. He didn’t attempt to fight what she was doing, simply enjoying the delicious lunch that Lydia or Erica had prepared according to his dietary instruction. Once the meal was completed, he withdrew to his room to do some work on his training plan for Derek, allowing Laura to continue to monopolise her brother. He _had_ planned another round of exercise, but he would allow Laura this minor victory – but tomorrow would be a different story if Stiles had anything to say about it.

* * *

Chris arrived for dinner, an event that Lydia had informed Stiles happened whenever Laura stayed for the evening meal – which was every night. Stiles remained a silent observer, watching as Laura continued to hover anxiously over Derek – going so far as to question whether his meal would be sufficient for his needs. Chris said nothing, but Stiles could read that the other man was most definitely not pleased with his wife’s performance – she had barely acknowledged his existence, asked about his well-being or how his day had gone. It had to rankle.

After dinner, when Laura and Derek went off to his study, Stiles took his chance to speak to Chris.

“Would you come out to the patio? I’d like to show you the work that’s been completed.” Chris gave him a shrewd look before nodding and following him outside.

“I’m having a problem with Laura.”

“You and me both! Sorry, that was inappropriate but yes, I’ve had a problem with her since Derek’s accident. I try to understand how she feels, but I must admit it’s beginning to drive me just a little bit crazy.”

“He said something today about them practically raising each other?”

“Yes. Their whole family died in a house fire when Derek was only fifteen. They stayed with a variety of distant relatives for several years, but they were each other’s constant. Laura went into shock when they lose their family – it was quite some time before she could cope with Derek being out of her sight, or so I’ve heard. I know that she’s terrified of something happening to Derek and this accident was her worst nightmare.” Chris dry-washed his face, looking weary. “Even knowing all of that, I can’t help but find myself resenting it slightly – forsaking all others, etc.” 

“Yeah, I can see how that would be an issue.” 

“I want my wife back.”

“To be fair, Derek said that you don’t pay a lot of attention to her – that you’re married to your work.”

“Really? Well, I have a hell of a lot of work to do with Derek being the way he is. Despite all of the technology available that would make it more than possible for him to work from home, he’s shown a complete lack of interest in the company since the accident. There are a lot of people relying on Hale Enterprises for their income – I can’t exactly just sit back and let it fall to pieces! And what I wouldn’t give for just a smidgeon of the love and attention Laura smothers Derek with every single damned day! I feel like I don’t exist!”

“I did speak to Lydia about having the locks changed but she seemed to think it would cause more issues than it would fix. And after today, I can well agree with her. Derek would be apoplectic with rage if I locked his sister out – I need his anger, but I don’t want to make him so enraged that he refuses to work with me. The issue for me is that I can’t keep him on a schedule if she keeps popping in whenever she feels like it.”

Chris nodded doubtfully. “I’ll see what I can do, but to be honest any suggestion that would keep her away from Derek will most likely go over like an outbreak of smallpox.” He looked over at Stiles and unexpectedly grinned. “You must have the Zen of a Buddhist monk – you don’t look even remotely ruffled. Was it an interesting day?”

“Well, it certainly had its moments.” Stiles grinned, then laughed a little. “He threw his breakfast at me.”

Chris gave a bark of laughter, looking much younger. “Oh, I wish I could have seen that! Derek has always been more than a little hot-tempered, but since the accident he’s been so depressed, you couldn’t make him angry if you tried all day! It sounds a bit like old times – we fight like cat and dog, but ultimately we both want what’s best for the company and it has always worked well for us.”

“I’m hoping that I don’t need to keep him angry to keep him cooperating.” Stiles sighed, knowing the pressure he was placing Chris under. “I’m almost certain I could get him to progress much more rapidly if there weren’t constant interruptions. I’m sorry, Chris, but I’m relying on you to think of something to keep Laura occupied.”

“Don’t you think I would have by now if I could have thought of something? Short of bloody kidnapping her, what do you suggest?”

“Well, that sounds like a good plan – why don’t you do that? Kidnap her, second honeymoon – whatever it takes!”

“If only I could, but the workload doesn’t get better until Derek does. Any other suggestions?”

“Unfortunately, none that are appropriate – somehow I don’t think you have a red room of pain handy that you could tie her in!” They both laughed loudly. 

“No – not quite my thing, although I’m up to trying anything once.” A look that could be interpreted as attraction flared in Chris’s eyes. “I’ll do what I can do. Unless Derek’s completely dead or lost all of his faculties, it won’t be long before he realises that he’d rather have you fussing over him than his sister.”

For an awful moment, Stiles felt himself having a flashback: a younger, more vulnerable version of himself being told how attractive he was, how irresistible, and he flinched, stepping back from Chris who reached out and took his arm, his look solicitous.

“What’s wrong? Was it something I said? I meant no offence.”

“No – it’s nothing, it’s fine.” Chris looked extremely doubtful at his words. “Honestly, you haven’t offended me.”

Knowing he couldn’t explain but unable to stay outside with Chris any longer, Stiles took another step backwards, out of reach of Chris’s touch.

“I should be saying goodnight – I have to be up early tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

As Stiles walked back into the house rapidly, he bumped into Laura who was on her way out.

“There you are – I was beginning to wonder where you and Chris had gone. Derek’s gone to bed – he was so tired.”

“I thought he might be.” Unexpectedly he yawned. “I’m sorry – it’s been a long day.”

“Right, well – Chris and I will be leaving. I wouldn’t want to keep you up. I’ll see Derek tomorrow.”

“I’ll be increasing his exercises tomorrow – perhaps it would be better if you waited until late afternoon before you came round? Say after four?”

Laura gasped. “But surely that’s far too much! He isn’t strong enough for all of that!” Stiles was too tired to restrain himself from his sarcastic response. 

“At this point, I’m doing most of it, but I’ll try to be careful to not overwork him.” Laura gave him a considering look before nodding. 

“Very well. I’ll be here tomorrow afternoon.” With a final nod in Stiles’ direction, Laura went to fetch her husband and Stiles went off to his room. 

Once he’d gone through his night-time ritual, he tapped gently on Derek’s bedroom door. When there was no response, he opened it as quietly as he could, just enough to peek inside. Derek was sound asleep on his back, looking much younger and more vulnerable with the lines of pain and suffering smoothed out. Satisfied with his patient’s welfare, Stiles went to his room and tried to settle down.

Unfortunately, due to his encounter with Chris, he lay awake deep into the night, thrown into his past.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be no extramarital flings in this story, just in case people were wondering.
> 
> * * *


	11. A New Dawn and a Set Back

A muffled sound caught Stiles’ attention and he lifted his head from his pillow, waiting to see if it was repeated. Was it Derek? Had he called out?

There was nothing but silence now, but since he was unable to sleep anyway, Stiles decided to investigate. Being as quiet as possible, Stiles walked to the door of Derek’s room, pressing his ear to it before deciding to just go in. He could always explain himself if Derek was awake.

He entered the room to see Derek lying in the same position as he had been in previously. He was about to leave, putting the noise down to an unfamiliar environment when he heard it again. He turned to see that Derek obviously tried to turn to his side and when his legs were unable to cooperate, he made the same sound as Stiles had heard before. 

Wondering if no one ever helped him change position in the night – any of the previous therapists could have suggested it at least – he moved on silent feet until he was next to the bed. Derek didn’t seem to be awake – he had been trying to roll over in his sleep, settling onto his back each time he failed. 

Stiles stood silently watching and waiting for the next attempt, then placing his hand on Derek’s shoulder and applying a little pressure, he encouraged him onto his side. Derek didn’t stir, even when Stiles carefully moved his legs so that he could roll completely over – he merely gave a pleased grunt and burrowed his face into his pillow, settling deeper into sleep. Stiles pulled the covers up over his shoulder, then left the room as quietly as he had entered.

* * *

Stiles finally managed a couple of hours of sleep, but it was even earlier than the previous morning when he went into Derek’s room to wake him up. 

He was still on his side; he opened one pale green eye, surveyed Stiles with an expression that approached horror and muttered ‘fuck!’ into his pillow. Ignoring the expletive, Stiles grinned at him.

“Ready to start?”

“Hell no!” he barked, face still firmly planted in the soft pillow. “Stiles – it’s the middle of the damned night – don’t you sleep?”

“Not quite the middle of the night – it’s almost dawn.” Derek turned his face and looked at Stiles calculatedly. 

“How close to almost?” 

“In just a few moments,” Stiles spoke softly, ruining his soothing tones by whipping the covers off of Derek. “Come and see the sunrise with me.”

“No.”

“Dude – don’t be such a sour-face! Watch the sunrise with me!” His voice rose to a whining tone, and Derek winced, giving Stiles a look of disbelief.

“What are you – a child? I don’t want to see the sunrise!”

“Course you do – you just won’t admit it because it’s me! Come on, Derek, I wanna share a sunrise with you!” 

“Well, I don’t want to share it with you! Stiles – I want to sleep!”

“You’ve been asleep for _hours_! Derek – Derek, Derek, Derek!”

“Are you going to carry that on until I agree?” Stiles nodded, smiling obnoxiously. “What the hell makes this sunrise so important and special? Do you have some extreme and obscure torture to put me through that you want to celebrate in advance?”

“Only if you don’t get up! Derek – come on!” Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and urged him upright. When Derek didn’t protest any further, he went and got the wheelchair and helped Derek into it. He made sure to cover him with a blanket to ward off any early morning chill, smirking at Derek’s constant scowl. “Where’s the best place to watch it from – you must know.”

“Fine. By the pool,” he grunted, rubbing at his eyes and looking adorable. “You’re fucking insane, you know that, right?”

“I’m not crazy, I’ve been tested!” When Derek didn’t respond, Stiles looked shocked. “You haven’t watched The Big Bang Theory? Man, you missed out! Besides, I bet you slept really well last night!”

“Of course I bloody did – you spent yesterday pounding on me like I was a punching bag!” He looked up at Stiles, then offered grudgingly. “It was actually the best night’s sleep I’ve had in two years.” 

“See? Having me around needn’t be torture – you just need to do everything I say!”

“Fat chance of that!”

“Okay, lead on – I don’t want to go through the courtyard because I know there are masses of materials and stuff there, so you’ll have to show me the way.” 

Obviously liking being in charge, Derek led him through the silent house. As they circled around the back of the house, there were the beginnings of early morning birdsong, and Derek looked around him with interest. He already seemed far more ‘alive’ and alert and Stiles was pleased with the outward signs of improvement. 

Sitting beside the pool, they silently watched the first greying of dawn, then, at last, the sun rose gracefully, piercing the sky with its golden rays. It was a humbling view as well as inspiring, the promise of a fresh and clean new day. It was a simple sight but stunning in its simplicity, and Stiles appreciated the opportunity to put much of yesterday behind him. Derek shoved the covers down from his shoulders as the day began to warm, turning to look at Stiles.

“I’m hungry.” Stiles laughed at such a prosaic concern, then rose from his seated position on the floor next to the wheelchair.

“Well so much for appreciating the finer things in life!”

“If you insist on waking me up at the crack of dawn, the least you could do is feed me. Am I getting the same crap as I got yesterday?” They began to make their way back to the interior of the house, Derek keeping the speed of the wheelchair slow so that it was more of a stroll.

“You are indeed – a nutritious feast that will help you put some weight back on.”

“Which you’ll then do your absolute best to beat off of me!”

“Well, that sounded kinkier than I expected!” The look of shock Derek gave him sent Stiles off into peals of laughter as they entered the house.

* * *

There followed a week where things settled into a decent routine. Stiles woke Derek each morning, exercised his legs and massaged his body. Already the meals that Lydia and Erica were producing were showing a difference – Derek’s belly was no longer hollow, his cheeks beginning to fill in. He was still occasionally belligerent, snarking at Stiles constantly, but he dug into his food with gusto, no longer arguing for his chocolate pancakes. 

Each evening, Chris and Laura came to dinner. Unfortunately, the situation between the two of them showed little improvement. Laura continued to attempt to reinforce the importance of her role in Derek’s life, never seeming to notice that each word was like a dagger in her husband’s flesh. Stiles noticed that Derek was starting to see what was happening, his gaze becoming more calculated and assessing. It felt like a showdown was coming one way or another, and he wished he didn’t have to be there but had the feeling he was going to get a ring-seat. 

Stiles was once again impressed with Chris when he informed her that miracles had been worked, and the gym was now ready for use. Unfortunately, that was when he noticed a downturn in Derek’s attitude. Why was he suddenly withdrawn and depressed again?

* * *


	12. Sharing Secrets

Turning his head to look at the luminous clock on his bedside table, Stiles saw that it was after midnight. As he had done every night, he got up to go and check on Derek. He hadn’t heard the sounds he normally made that said he was trying to turn over, but Stiles had been so deep into his thoughts that he might have missed them.

As soon as he entered Derek’s room, he saw that Derek’s legs were in the twisted position that said that, yes, he had tried to turn over. As had become his custom, he placed his hand gently onto his shoulder and his right onto his legs in preparation for helping him turn over.

“Stiles?”

The quiet, uncertain tone started him and he leapt back. He’d obviously been so intent on Derek’s legs that he hadn’t seen him open his eyes, even though the moonlight that streamed through the windows was clear enough. Derek had taken to leaving the curtains open at night, possibly to enjoy looking at the moon.

“Sorry – I thought you were asleep.”

“Are you in the habit of fondling my legs whilst I’m asleep?”

“Haha – you’re so witty!”

“What were you doing?” Pleased at this unexpected display of interest after Derek had seemed so apathetic lately, Stiles sat on the edge of the bed.

“You seem to sleep better on your side, so each night I come in and help you move over.” He shrugged. “To be fair, this is the first time it’s disturbed you.”

“No, I was already awake.” Derek stared at him for a few moments. “Do you mean you come in here in the middle of the night _every_ night just to turn me over?”

“Yep – full service here!”

“I actually sleep better on my front, or at least I did before.” Derek gave a short, bitter laugh and Stiles risked asking the question that had stopped him from sleeping.

“Derek – what’s wrong? We were making great progress and then lately, you seem to have switched off again. Something’s bothering you.”

“That obvious, huh?”

“Yeah, just slightly.” 

“That psychology course you studied serving you well.” No surprise that Derek had looked into Stiles’ qualifications – he was very thorough in the way his mind worked. 

“I need all of the tools at my disposal to keep up with you.” Stiles leaned forward earnestly. “Look, the gym is ready for you, but you’re not ready for it – whatever is on your mind is interfering with your therapy.”

Derek lay there looking back at Stiles, his pale eyes bright in the moonlight. “I just – nothing has really changed. I don’t know what I was expecting – maybe a miracle? But, I still can’t feel my legs and I’m – what if this doesn’t work? What if I don’t get back to being myself again? I’m stuffed to the gills with vitamins, you’ve revved up my circulation and yet – nothing. If I can’t be one hundred per cent, then why am I going through all of this?”

Stiles nodded his understanding, paying Derek the respect of considering what he had said before answering. 

“I can’t promise you one hundred per cent – but would a limp be so bad? Would it matter to you that much?” He sat back. “I’m not the way I would like to be either. Everyone has a weakness – does that mean they shouldn’t try? If, for example, it was Chris in this position – or better yet, _Laura_ – would you want her to simply give up and let herself rot because she wouldn’t be able to wear her Manolo’s comfortably again? Would you want her to lie there and be a vegetable or would you want her to fight with everything inside?”

Derek flung his arm up over his eyes. “That’s dirty, even for you, Stiles. Of course, I’d want Laura to fight. But I’m not Laura and she’s not me. I was in a very privileged position before the accident of never really considering the quality of my life, the things I was able to do. Some of the things I did were wild, and yes, a little dangerous – but God, I felt so _alive_!”

“Would a limp prevent you from doing those things? Would you still want to do all of those wild and dangerous things?”

“I’ve never been a nine-to-fiver – I can’t imagine a life where I wasn’t able to throw myself into things – “

“So, you’re just going to lie back and die, is that it? You can still design a jet; jump out of aeroplanes; bungee jump – are you really saying a cane would make so much difference?”

“Why do you keep saying I was just trying to lie back and die? I don’t remember trying to fly my wheelchair off a flight of stairs!”

“No, but you **were** neglecting yourself, and you were fading away. Chris didn’t come and find me on a whim – he tracked me down to where I was on holiday because he was convinced you wouldn’t see the year out. And when I first got here – I agreed with him.”

“Jesus.”

“It might be an idea to take some time to see a therapist – once things have settled down, that is. Maybe you and Laura could use someone to talk to about the things all of this has raised in you both.”

“A head-shrink?”

“There’s nothing wrong with therapy – physical and mental. Healthy mind and healthy body. You’ve all been through a huge trauma, and something like this leaves a mark. If you can try to have a little more faith in the process, give me just a little more time – you **will** see that you are going to recover from this. And then you need to do the rest of the work to get yourself into a better head-space. Legs do not a healthy body make.”

Stiles was pleased when Derek nodded, whether it was to his statement or his suggestion. Satisfied, he stood up, intending to help Derek roll over and then head back to bed.

“So what’s your weakness? You said everyone has one – what torments you?”

Stiles stilled, taken completely aback by the question. Derek’s weakness was obvious, but Stiles hid his behind sarcasm and a nomad lifestyle.

“What’s wrong? It’s okay for you to know all of my deep and ugly secrets, but you’re not willing to share any of yours?”

“I – “

“What? Do you sleep with strangers in club bathrooms? Cheat on your taxes – there must be something, right? _Everyone_ has a weakness – you said it yourself!”

“Alright! I have no one and nothing in the whole world, and one day I know I’m going to die alone and I wonder if anyone will even notice I’m gone.”

“Jesus, Stiles – I’m sorry, I – “

“My mom and dad died when I was young, really young. I don’t have anything that belongs to them to remember them by. I went to stay with friends of the family – my best bud, Scott and his parents. But – “ He couldn’t tell Derek everything – it simply wasn’t in him. “ – it didn’t work out for various reasons. And I’ve been on my own since then. So, yeah – that’s my weakness if you like – I don’t have anyone who gives a shit if I live or die. Is that enough? Or would you like me to open a vein for you?”

“I didn’t mean to – I am so sorry!”

“Forget it. Goodnight Derek.” Forgetting his reason for entering the room in the first place, Stiles shuffled back to his bedroom feeling like an old man. He fell into bed, feeling completely exhausted, falling asleep almost instantly.

* * *

The next morning, Stiles dreaded entering Derek’s room, wondering if he would have questions – ask _why_ things hadn’t worked out with the McCall family. Squaring his shoulders, Stiles walked into Derek’s room prepared to do battle, only to find him coming out of the bathroom already dressed for his workout. 

“I surrender.”

“What?” Derek’s face was still pale and thin, but the look of detachment was gone, and he no longer appeared apathetic. “But – I haven’t even launched an attack yet!”

“I know when I’m out-manned and out-gunned! Bring on the torture room – I would like to see what a gym that Olympic athletes are happy with looks like.”

Relaxing slightly at the return to the banter that had been missing, Stiles gave Derek a shy smile before clapping his hands together.

“Well, it’s about time you accepted that I always know best – now, let’s get you down to my torture chamber where I can _really_ put you to work.”

* * *


	13. Caught Out

Initially, Derek wasn’t able to do much with the weights. Even the smaller ones were too much for him, although he kept gritting his teeth and trying to continue even when Stiles told him to stop. He threw himself into working out with a vengeance, as though trying to make up for the time when he had been laid low by the depression. Stiles was impressed that Derek kept up that attitude, even knowing that all of his efforts would lead to extended periods in the whirlpool, suffering the pain of tortured muscles. 

As an added benefit, all of the extra workouts kept him so exhausted that there was no repeat of their middle of the night conversation, and Derek acted as though it had never happened. 

Unsurprisingly, it was Laura who pitched a fit when Stiles began giving Derek therapy in the pool. She was completely terrified that Derek would drown since his legs were useless and he was unable to kick. Stiles tried to reassure her that he was more than capable of keeping Derek afloat for more than long enough for someone to come to their aid if necessary, but she would not be persuaded. It was Derek who took her aside and spoke to her – Stiles had no idea what he said to her, but she stopped protesting. 

Derek and Boyd worked together to construct a system of braces and pulleys to enabled Stiles to lower and hoist Derek out of the pool with no issues whatsoever, and Stiles made a point of mentioning to Derek that he might want to develop it further because it was far superior to what was currently available on the open market. 

It was a little over two weeks that Stiles had been working with Derek when he sat watching him devour his breakfast. He was gaining weight, his face no longer as thin and gaunt-looking. His skin seemed to not burn, so he was already tanned a healthy tone, making his pale-green eyes seem even brighter against the darkness of his eyebrows and beard.

“What are you looking at?” Derek demanded as Erica removed his empty plate and replaced it with strawberries in fresh cream.

“You’re gaining weight.”

“Well, I thought you _wanted_ to fatten me up?” Stiles found himself vaguely mesmerised by Derek’s lips as he spooned in a fat strawberry, licking the cream and juice that spilt over slightly. 

“Well, you’re looking less like I’d complain at Thanksgiving anyway.” Derek gave a ‘humph’ in reply, concentrating on eating his fruit with a gusto that Stiles found unexpectedly and confusingly appealing. Just as Derek finished the last strawberry, Lydia appeared with his cell, which she placed in front of Derek alongside a cup of coffee.

Derek looked from the cell to the coffee and back again, before raising his gaze to Stiles.

“I _think_ it means you have a call,” Stiles said sarcastically.

“Thank fuck for that – for a second, I thought you wanted me to eat it!” Stiles snorted and got to his feet as Derek picked up the cell.

“I’ll be in the gym when you’ve finished.” He heard enough to realise that Derek was talking to Chris and it caused a line of worry between his brows.

Laura had stuck to her word from that first day, never arriving at the house before four in the afternoon. The four of them often ate dinner together, and Stiles enjoyed talking to Chris. He was an intelligent, witty man, with a sarcastic sense of humour and a fountain of comments and jokes that kept Stiles chuckling during the meal, although often they didn’t translate well when Laura asked what was so funny.

Chris had never crossed the line with his behaviour towards Stiles – he never again made comments that could be construed as suggestive or inappropriate. But Stiles could see quite clearly that there was a level of _interest_ on Chris’ part, no doubt partially because he had someone to talk to who appreciated him. There was little doubt in Stiles’ mind that Laura felt that Chris might appreciate him a little too much – she was subtle, but she watched her husband sharply when he was talking with Stiles. In one way, it was a relief – at least it meant that Laura was once again aware of her husband as an attractive man and was once again paying attention to him. Unfortunately, Stiles had no interest in being a complication in their relationship – especially when for him, there was absolutely nothing in it.

But what could he say to Chris? Stiles couldn’t accuse him of flirting or anything untoward – it was more of a feeling than anything. And who was to say that Chris was even bisexual or pan? Stiles had been the object of unwanted attention before, but this was the first time the attention hadn’t been obvious, and he had no idea how to handle it. He knew that Chris would never try to force himself onto Stiles, but Laura was becoming more and more jealous and an explosion seemed imminent. It was an uncomfortable position to be in. 

Trying to shake his thoughts, he ran hot water in a plastic container and set the flask of oil that he used in it to warm for the massage he always gave Derek before he went into the pool, in an effort to ward off a chill. Once he’d completed that task, he decided to do a quick set on the weights while he waited for Derek to come through. He enjoyed lifting weights – his aim was strength rather than bulk, and the short program he began to do was designed with that in mind. It was different to the one he had Derek working on – he didn’t want to bulk him up into a Mr Universe competitor, but he did want to build muscle onto his thin frame. Carefully regulating his breathing, he began his sets.

“You goddamned cheat!” Derek’s roar startled him mid-lift, and he paused, confused. Derek was in the doorway, pointing at Stiles accusingly, his face reddened with fury. 

“What on earth – “

“You’re a weight-lifter! You **knew** I wouldn’t be able to beat you that day – you cheat! Hell, how many men _could_ beat you?”

“Well, not many!” he replied with a grin, which seemed to make Derek even angrier. “I had to make you agree to give things a try.”

“Even knowing how it would make me feel to be beaten in that physical and mental state?” 

“If you recall, I never said I wasn’t good at it!” A snort of laughter escaped him, and enraged, Derek pounded his fist on the arm of his wheelchair. Unfortunately, it was the arm with the controls and the chair jerked back and forth, bouncing as if it was a bucking bronco trying to rid itself of an irksome cowboy. 

That served to make Stiles laugh even harder, beating the weight bench in a parody of Derek’s motions which led to him looking even stormier.

“Stop laughing! Right – over here! We’ll see who wins this time!”

Stiles was so weak with laughter that he could barely get to his feet, staggering over to the massage table where Derek had propped his elbow and was waiting for him. 

“Dude, this isn’t fair – I’m not ready! At least wait until I’ve stopped laughing!”

“Like it was fair to make me think you couldn’t kick my ass? You cheated and I want a rematch!”

“Alright, alright – gimme a minute.” Stiles tried to squelch the remaining laughter, putting his hand in Derek’s and flexing. “Okay – ready.”

“On the count of three!” Derek said, and it was fortunate that Stiles was ready for the speedy count that Derek gave otherwise he would have lost almost immediately. “One...twothree!”

He threw his entire body into the effort, realising the extra weight Derek had gained as well as the new workouts had increased his strength. Not by much, but enough that Stiles had to force himself to completely stop laughing before he lost by dint of not being able to control himself.

“You cheated!”

“No more than you did!!” They puffed and panted in exertion for a couple of minutes, neither of them prepared to give way. “Dammit, this is where you let me win!”

“Not a chance, dude! If you beat me, you’ll know you did it fair and square!” Stiles puffed in response. 

“But I’m a patient!”

“You’re an opportunistic bastard is what you are !” Derek ground his teeth and pushed harder, at which point Stiles ducked his head, the movement putting his head in the hollow of Derek’s shoulder. Slowly, slowly, he finally managed to push Derek’s arm backwards and down until it was flat on the table. 

Their panting breaths filled the room, both of them slumping onto the massage table as they tried to recover from their exertions. Stiles sat up first, watching as Derek recovered enough to push himself into an upright position in his chair.

“Dude, has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful when you’re angry?” Stiles watched as Derek’s eyebrows rose to his hairline before he suddenly gave a gurgle, a gulp, then began to roar with laughter, throwing back his head and clutching at his stomach. He slapped his hands down on the arms of his wheelchair which set it jerking back and forth again and made Stiles begin laughing once more. His jerky motions in laughter combined with the chair to pitch him out onto his face, which, upon seeing that he wasn’t hurt, made Stiles laugh even harder until the both of them were rolling around on the floor laughing. 

Before he could recover, Derek reached over and began to tickle Stiles, causing him to crease up as he struggled to get away from the strong fingers, screaming his head off as Derek continued laughing beside him. 

They were laughing so hard that they didn’t hear Laura enter the room, obviously not understanding what was going on as she dived towards her brother, screaming his name. “DEREK!”

* * *


	14. Suspicious Minds

Though Laura wasn’t meant to be there that early in the day, Stiles realised that it was a good thing that she had come in – what had he been thinking, rolling around on the floor with Derek? It wasn’t professional in the slightest and he was disturbed by his out of character actions. That, and the thought of Derek’s hands on him – even just tickling – hadn’t led to the normal panic he felt when someone touched him. It was – disquieting.

“Laura! LAURA! I’m okay – there’s nothing wrong!” Derek had obviously realised that Laura had assumed there had been some kind of accident. He spoke strongly, deliberately, smoothing his hands down her shoulders to try to calm her down. “We were just playing around – I’m not hurt, okay?” 

Laura calmed down slowly, her face regaining its normal colour. Stiles stood up as Derek pushed himself into a sitting position and reached for the blanket the normally covered his thin legs. “What are you doing here this time of day? You know you’re not meant to be here!”

Derek spoke sharply, no doubt embarrassed for his sister to see his emaciated frame. Unfortunately, Laura took it as a rebuke for interrupting, her face flushing with colour and a hurt expression crossing her face. Almost immediately, she recovered, snapping in return.

“Well, excuse me – I thought you were having therapy, not rolling around on the floor playing with the help!”

“Apologise to Stiles immediately – that was uncalled for!” Laura bit her lip and looked like she was going to cry but turned to Stiles.

“I’m sorry, Stiles – that was completely out of line and I do hope you can forgive me. I – there was something I needed to speak to you about, Derek, but it can wait – I’m sorry for interrupting.” Stiles nodded his acceptance, watching as she walked out of the gym, her back ramrod straight.

“Well – she’s definitely your sister, isn’t she?” 

“Fuck it! Now I’ll have to apologise and it’s gonna be all awkward – sometimes being the younger brother really sucks!” Stiles smirked and Derek shook his finger at him. “Don’t be acting all cocky – I know your weakness now!”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah – you’re as ticklish as a toddler!”

“You tickle again, and I’ll pour ice water over you while you’re sleeping!”

“Ouch – you go straight to DEFCON one don’t you?” Derek smiled and shook his head. “I want a rematch in two weeks, if not before.”

“Well, if you wanna be a glutton for punishment – “

“You’ll be smiling on the other side of your face when I win – and I promise I won’t be a gracious winner!” Stiles laughed, then contemplated how he was going to get Derek back into his chair. “Don’t even think about it – just call for Boyd to help you.”.

Boyd was a mountain of a man with beautiful dark skin, liquid brown eyes and a slow smile that the first time he’d seen it had made Stiles lose track of his thoughts. He was incredibly quietly spoken and Stiles had wondered about the pairing of him and Erica. However, seeing them together just once answered the question of how they matched together. Erica still talked ten to the dozen when Boyd was there, but her whole attitude softened – they seemed to gravitate towards each other when they were in a room together, more often than not reaching for each other’s hands even when just walking past each other.

Added to which, Boyd was completely devoted to Derek. No one had told Stiles how Boyd or Erica had come to be working at the Hale household, but they were most definitely not seen as just ‘the help’. 

Boyd wasn’t one for asking questions – the most he did was raise his eyebrows when he came into the gym and saw Derek lounging casually on the floor. Between the two of them, Stiles and he got Derek onto the massage table, Stiles going to check on the wheelchair once they had achieved that.

“Boyd – we need to rig another contraption for me in here – like the one in the pool,” Derek instructed. “We need the pulley arm swinging in any direction and it needs to run the length of the bar.”

“Okay. Tomorrow alright?”

“If you can’t do it any sooner than that, I guess it’ll have to do.” Stiles turned around to rebuke Derek for his rudeness, only to see the two men share a smile. Boyd touched Derek on the shoulder once before nodding at Stiles and heading back out of the gym. 

“You do know you’re a brutal slave-driver, right?” Stiles told Derek as he was massaging his back with the heated oil. 

“I learned it all from you,” Derek murmured, completely relaxed under Stiles’ touch. Even snapping the waistband of his gym shorts raised no reaction, and Stiles sighed dramatically.

“Oh my God, you’re immune to my tricks!”

“Not immune to you, in any way.” Stiles gasped, unsure how to respond. In the end, he didn’t have to, a gentle snore coming from Derek as the massage continued.

* * *

Derek was already awake, rubbing his thighs and calves when Stiles walked in the next morning. Stiles regarded him with satisfaction, pleased to see him being proactive. 

“I had a long talk with Laura last night,” Derek grunted, not looking up from what he was going.

“And good morning to you too.”

“Morning.”

“I expect the apology stuck in your throat just a teensy weensy bit – you don’t strike me as the type to apologise often.” He slipped behind Derek on the bed, kneading his back and shoulders.

“Very true.” Derek glanced at Stiles over his shoulder, before once more turning his gaze towards his actions. “She was a bit upset – it seems that once Chris has been dropping her at home, he’s been going back out again.”

“Has he?” 

“Yes. Laura thinks he’s seeing another woman – or man.” Stiles’ hands stilled momentarily before he resumed his actions. Somehow, he didn’t see Chris as the type to go in for an extramarital affair, but things had been fractious between him and Laura for some time – was it possible?

Derek swivelled his head to look directly at Stiles, their faces very close together.

“Laura thinks he’s seeing you,” Derek said bluntly. Stiles could feel his eyebrows climbing up his face, but kept his expression passive apart from that.

“And what did you tell her?”

“I told her what any decent brother would have told her – that I’d find out and stop it if he was.”, he replied. “Don’t bother trying to look so innocent, Stiles – we both know Chris is attracted to you. He’d have to be dead not to be – you’re the type of man who probably has men and women swarming all over you.”

“Huh.” Strange that both Chris and Derek thought that Stiles would be the others’ type – and it answered the question (slightly) regarding Chris’s sexuality. “Well, at least you can reassure Laura that I’m not seeing Chris. Aside from the fact that he’s married, which automatically puts him on my no list, when would I have the time? I’m with you all day long, and partially at night too – when exactly would I have the time or energy to be sneaking around?”

“Laura said the two of you snuck out to the patio the other night.”

“We didn’t _sneak_ anywhere! And we were talking about you, not having a hot make-out session! Obviously, Chris is unhappy with Laura – “

“And how exactly do you know that?”

“You’d have to be a blind ignoramus not to see how much he resents the fact that she’s devoted the last two years almost exclusively to you! I think I’ve made it perfectly clear that the only pursuit Chris has made of me has been to get me here to get **you** back on your feet so he can have his wife back!”

Derek sighed at the blunt statement of just how much his physical condition had been dominating his sister’s life. 

“All right – I believe you. But just in case you start thinking about how attractive Chris is – “

“I won’t!”

“Well, just in case you do, let me tell you that I won’t tolerate Laura being hurt.” Stiles stopped kneading Derek’s shoulders, sitting back in the bed.

“Your sister is a big girl now – surely she’s more than capable of fighting her own battles? You can’t run interference for her for the rest of her life.”

“I can do it as long as she needs me to do it, and for as long as I’m able. When I think how she was when our family died – there’s not a lot I wouldn’t do for Laura.”

Stiles nodded jerkily, then got to his feet.

“Do you really think Chris is seeing someone else? To be honest, I can’t see it – he’s so besotted with Laura that I can’t imagine another person even registering with him.”

“ **You** register with him,” Derek insisted, watching Stiles carefully.

“Well, he’s never said anything to me. How do you know – male intuition?”

“I don’t need intuition, I’m just not blind.” Stiles grabbed the wheelchair and brought it to the side of the bed. “If it wasn’t for the fact that I couldn’t catch a snail at the moment if it gave me a head-start, you’d have the race of your damned life.”

Stiles froze, suddenly feeling like prey. It was a familiar feeling, but his reaction was completely out of the realm of his experience. He had never been looked at the way Derek was looking at him and _felt_ the way he did. Would he even try to run if Derek chased him?

* * *


	15. On Your Feet

”And here was me thinking arm-wrestling was our thing, not running.” The retort was weak – Stiles knew that – but he didn’t have anything else he could say. He had never felt such an attraction before and he really had no clue what to do about it. “Besides, you look so shaggy, I doubt you could see to run anywhere.”

Without thinking, he stepped next to the bed, hand reaching out to stroke the thick strands of hair out of Derek’s eyes. “You’re beginning to look like a sheepdog.”

“Then cut it for me,” Derek challenged, leaning into Stiles’ touch. Stiles let his hand drop.

“You’d let me cut your hair?”

“Well, I’m pretty much letting you sculpt my body – I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to put my hair into your hands. Besides, if you do an awful job, we can always shave it down.”

“Oh God, no – I had a buzz-cut when I was younger and it was _not_ a good look!” Derek laughed.

“I would have loved to see that! You probably looked like a startled deer with that pale skin and your big eyes!”

Aware of how intently Derek was staring at him, Stiles turned away.

“Fine – then let’s do it – let’s see if I can add personal barber to my resume!”

* * *

In the days that followed nothing else was said about the situation between Chris and Laura. They still came to dinner every night, the coolness between them a tangible thing. Chris treated Stiles with a friendly warmth that Laura watched with an eagle eye, but it never crossed the line. 

Stiles was also aware of Derek watching him – partially because of Chris, but also for another reason that Stiles refused to think any further about. His haircut meant that he looked much more like his photograph than he had previously – Erica had actually been moved to tears at seeing her Boss-man looking so much more like himself – and Stiles found himself in the uncomfortable position of wondering if he had a ‘crush’ on his patient. It could never be more than a crush, simply because Derek would never return his feelings.

As Derek grew stronger, his sarcastic, devilish personality came more to the fore. It was like he had been locked away in the Big Brother household for two years and had to catch up with _everything_ at once. Stiles found himself watching American football, baseball – any sport that was on – as well as playing poker and chess with Derek. He wanted to do everything now and he wanted Stiles to do it with him. 

His work ethic came through in the gym. Derek pushed himself far harder than Stiles would have – he insisted on getting to Stiles’ level with the weights; pushed himself to do laps in the pool and every single week there was an arm-wrestling rematch. It took him five weeks to beat Stiles, and as he had said, he was _not_ a gracious winner!

Still, Stiles was nervous when it came time for him to begin using his legs. This was the entire point of the program, a pivotal moment, and Stiles was concerned that if Derek couldn’t see progress now, he might withdraw mentally once again.

To ensure that Derek had a good night’s sleep, Stiles didn’t tell him beforehand what was planned. Once Derek had completed his sets on the weights, he got him back into the wheelchair and guided it over to the parallel bars that he would be using for support whilst Stiles reminded his legs in what they were expected to do. Derek looked confused, gaze switching from the bars to Stiles and back again. 

“So, dude, time for you to stop being so damned lazy all the time. Your upper body is buff af but has no one ever told you that you shouldn’t miss leg day?!” Despite his false bravado, Stiles could feel his heart pounding. “In other words, on your feet.”

Derek’s eyes widened and he looked so much like a frightened little boy that Stiles wanted to hug him close and tell him everything would be alright. Instead, he merely smiled encouragingly when Derek said, “This is it, huh? D-day.”

“More like leg day. It’s no big deal. Just stand.” He could almost hear the wheels turning in Derek’s head and took the time to warn him. “No trying to walk. Just let your legs become accustomed to feeling your weight.”

Derek nodded, setting his jaw and reaching out for the bars. With his hands braced on them, he pulled himself up out of the wheelchair. All of the weightlifting came in handy as he used only the strength in his shoulders and arms. Watching him, Stiles noted the way his muscles bunched and played – the program had been good for him, and although he was still too thin, he looked good. Even his legs had responded to Stiles’ forcing exercise on them by forming a layer of muscle.

Derek was pale, sweat dripping down his face as Stiles positioned his feet firmly under him. “Let your weight fall off of your hands. Let your legs hold you – you may fall but don’t worry about it. _Everyone_ falls when they reach this phase of therapy.”

“I won’t fall,” Derek pronounced grimly, throwing his head back and gritting his teeth. He was balancing on his hands but his weight was firmly on his feet. “You didn’t say it would fucking hurt, Stiles!”

Stiles’ head jerked up, eyes wide with excitement. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes, it fucking does! Like hot needles – “

Stiles let out a whoop of joy and reached for Derek, remembering quickly his precarious balance and restraining himself.

“You know what this means, right?”

“No, what?” Derek was panting now.

“That the nerves are working! It’s all working – the massages, the exercises, the swimming, the whirlpool – _your legs_?! Don’t you get it?” Stiles was practically vibrating with excitement, desperate for Derek to understand what it meant.

His response finally flipped a switch in Derek’s brain, his skin going pale whilst his eyes practically glowed. “Say it – please!” 

“You’re going to walk!” Stiles shouted, tears bursting from his eyes, blurring the vision of Derek’s face wreathed in smiles. He swiped at his cheeks as he said more quietly, “Derek, you’re going to walk.”

Derek shuddered, then let go of the bars and reached for Stiles who went down under his weight. He could feel Derek pushing his face into his shoulder and was about to check whether he was alright when he realised the soft sound he could hear was Derek weeping. 

He was crying – tears of joy, that turned into heaving sobs as the importance of what had just happened got through to him. Then somehow, they were crying together, both overcome by emotions too long held in check. For Stiles, it was the first time in a _very_ long time that he was being held while he cried and it was all too much. It was like a dam had burst inside and he held Derek close and simply shared the moment with him. 

He had no idea how long they lay there, Derek resting on top of him, Stiles carding his fingers through the dark strands he had cut and shaped himself. 

Derek lifted his head to look at him – he didn’t appear ashamed of the tears that wet his face, leaning down and rubbing his cheek against Stiles’. They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, then Derek leaned down and kissed him. It was a gentle, slow kiss – a kiss that wasn’t asking for anything further. It was almost an extension of them crying together. 

Stiles felt no fear, no concern, especially as Derek didn’t try to deepen the kiss. Instead, he lifted his head, brushing their noses together in a sweet kiss that made Stiles smile. 

“Your eyes are like the finest whiskey – what secrets do they hide? It would be so easy to get lost in you.” 

Stiles shivered, hands now resting on the broad width of Derek’s shoulders – he was extremely away of their position: Derek was leaning up on his elbows, but from the waist down, all of his weight was resting on Stiles. 

“You’re like this dynamo of pale skin, sarcasm and moles but at the same time, you are almost pretty. Where did you come from? What are the mysteries that you hold inside?”

Stiles couldn’t answer, simply shaking his head. This wasn’t the time – nothing that ugly should mar a moment as beautiful as this. Derek seemed to understand as he lowered his head to kiss Stiles again, this time parting his lips and slowly penetrating Stiles’ mouth with his tongue. It was an unknown intimacy that Stiles had no idea how to react to, but his body seemed to be fully on board, his hands tightening on Derek’s shoulders, butterflies fluttering in his stomach as he stroked his tongue alongside Derek’s.

* * *


	16. A little bit of Laura...

Derek deepened the kiss, responding to Stiles’ shy movements with enthusiasm. It was all so different to anything Stiles had ever experienced before – it was a gentle, kind exploration that he found himself getting lost in. It was almost innocent as they kissed each other, until Derek began to get more passionate, his hold tightening. Suddenly Stiles found himself back in a dark place where he was being held too tight, was pinned down, couldn’t get away – 

“NO!” He shoved Derek away with all the power of his arms and legs, scrabbling backwards until he was backed up to the massage table. Derek rolled to a stop near his wheelchair, looking stunned.

“Don’t bother screaming,” Derek snapped. “It’s a cinch nothing’s going to happen.”

“You can bet on that,” Stiles snapped back, struggling to catch his breath. “I’m a therapist, not a goddamn convenience!!”

“Don’t worry – your professional integrity is intact!” Derek muttered. “From _me_ anyway. You might want to try someone like Chris if you’re really serious with your kisses, though I warn you right now all of his parts are in working order and he might not be as easy to throw off!”

Realising that Derek hadn’t registered his panic, Stiles got to his feet, avoiding looking at the other man. His ego was merely bruised because Stiles had thrown him off so easily – there was no need to worry that Derek had realised Stiles wasn’t – 

“I am so sick of you throwing Chris at me – you and I both know, I’ve done nothing to encourage him and whatever he’s up to, it certainly isn’t with me. Now, stop feeling sorry for yourself – we have work to do.” Grabbing the wheelchair, he guided it into position to make it possible for Derek to lever himself up into it. 

Derek sat up and saluted sarcastically. “Whatever you say – you’re the therapist.”

* * *

Derek was in the foulest temper for the rest of the day – enough to even rival his behaviour when Stiles had first arrived. Over dinner with Laura and Chris, he barely said two words with even Laura giving up after a while so that the four of them ate mainly in silence.

“I have some paperwork to go over with you if that’s okay Derek?” Chris sounded unsure, but Derek nodded and wheeled himself out of the room, leaving Stiles and Laura in silence.

“Well, he’s just a bundle of laughs – what’s wrong?” 

Stiles wasn’t about to tell Laura about the kisses or the reason for Derek’s bad temper. It was far easier to throw him under the bus and let him deal with Laura’s curiosity. “I don’t know – you’d think he’d be euphoric. He stood today, so I don’t know why he’s so grouchy.”

Laura’s eyes lit up. “He stood? He actually stood?”

“He had his weight on his legs, yes, and he could feel it. All signs are positive for him to be walking by Christmas if not sooner.”

“That’s absolutely wonderful! Why didn’t he tell me?”

Stiles shrugged and Laura made a rueful face. 

“I know you think I make too much of a fuss over him, and you’re right – I admit it. I have to apologise to you – my attitude since you arrived has been, well, appalling really. I didn’t think you’d be able to help him and I hated the thought of you getting his hopes up only for them to be dashed once again. But even if he doesn’t walk again, it’s more than obvious that therapy and you have been good for him. He’s looking so healthy again – he’s almost back to the Derek we once knew. And that is on you – I really am sorry, Stiles.”

Taken aback by the unexpected apology, Stiles didn’t know what to say other than, “That’s alright.”

“No, it really isn’t all right. Chris is barely speaking to me and I can hardly blame him. I’ve treated him like the invisible man for the last two years since Derek had the accident – the Lord knows how he’s been as patient and enduring as he has been. He’s taken over running the company, looking after the finances and the family – everything, and all with little to no gratitude or acknowledgement from myself or Derek.” She looked rueful for a moment. “I know that I’m irrational when it comes to Derek – he’s my security, my foundation.”

“Perhaps Chris would like to have that distinction,” Stiles replied, not really wanting to get any further involved in their marital problems. Stiles hadn’t forgotten that Laura suspected that not only was Chris seeing someone else, but had her suspicions that it was Stiles himself – involving himself in the whole mess wouldn’t be smart. He had a lot of respect for Chris but he didn’t feel right discussing him as though he had any particular insight. 

“Oh, I know he does! The trouble is, Derek is a hard act for _any_ man to follow! He was – is – an amazing brother. He has always been there for me – particularly after the deaths of our family. It sounds so dramatic to say it, but sometimes I think if something happened to Derek I’d expire on the spot.”

“You’re right – it does sound dramatic,” Stiles responded without thinking, relieved when Laura burst out laughing. 

“It would hardly be very considerate of me, I guess.” Stiles made a sound of agreement, wishing there was an easy way out of the conversation. “I’ve been incredibly jealous of you. I went from being Derek’s constant companion to having to accept your authority over everything – when I could see him, what we all ate – everything. And Derek has thrown himself into therapy – he’s been so engrossed in it all that he’s had no time for me. He’s been so close to you – “

“Therapy can be an extremely immersive experience.”

“It was – _IS_ – so much more than that. You seem to be able to get Derek to do so much more things than any of the other therapists.”

“I knew you felt that way but, unfortunately, Derek had to come first. You were interfering in what needed to happen – I tend to be slightly ruthless when it comes to my patients.”

Laura arched her brow in a manner that reminded Stiles strongly of Derek. “You were completely and utterly right in what you did – you were doing exactly what you were meant to do, and I can see that now. It took some self-reflection to see that I was resenting you more on my behalf than Derek’s – it was uncomfortable to realise I was feeling like that.”

“It takes a lot to go from being someone’s one and only to be pushed aside – or what _looks_ and feels like you’ve been pushed aside. But please believe me – once I’m gone, your relationship with Derek will settle down again.” Stiles considered whether or not he should continue. “I did mention to Derek once that therapy might be a good idea – for both of you. Obviously what happened when you were younger left a mark on you, and this entire situation made things worse. It might help if you talked it through with someone.”

Laura looked contemplative and Stiles wondered if he had gone too far. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. We never really talked about our family – we were too busy coping with the loss at the time, and then moving on. Thank you, Stiles – after the way I’ve treated you, the last thing I could possibly expect is that you would be so understanding and helpful. I do hope you accept my apology.”

“Of course I do – although it wasn’t necessary.”

“It was to me – I would really like it if we could try to be friends. I have the utmost respect for what you’ve achieved with Derek.”

“Thank you – and yes, being friends would be good.” Stiles struggled to hold back a yawn. “I’m really sorry, Laura, but it’s been a bit of a day. Would you think I was too rude if I went to bed?”

“God, no – don’t feel you have to entertain me! I’m used to Derek and Chris wandering off to talk business – it gives me free rein over the television! Thank you for giving me back my brother, Stiles. And I will give some serious thought to what you’ve said tonight."


	17. What crawled up your ass?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our boiler has died - officially condemned and due for replacement - so we have no heating. So, I'm tucked up under my duvet and hand-knitted blanket trying to keep warm. I might as well make the most of the time to get some writing done - be warned there may be more than one chapter coming up today.
> 
> As I don't have a beta and use Grammarly for proof-reading and spell-check, if you spot any glaring errors, please leave me a comment or drop me an email and I will try to fix things as quickly as I can. 
> 
> That being said - who wants to know just what is bugging Derek?
> 
> * * *

Stiles didn’t plan to pop in on Derek that night – whatever was bothering him, he could take it out on someone else. The emotional turmoil of the day meant that exhaustion dragged him into a deep sleep almost immediately, and when he was awoken by the sound of his name being shouted, he got the feeling it wasn’t the first time he’d been called.

“STILES!” It was Derek and from the sounds of it, he was in pain. Stiles ran into his room to find Derek writhing around on the bed, trying to sit up.

“What is it?!”

“Cramps!” Derek managed to grit out and Stiles could have kicked himself. Derek had pushed himself too far in the gym after the incident and was paying the price now. Without a word, he got onto the bed and began to knead the cramps away, strong fingers working efficiently. Slowly but surely, first one leg relaxed and then the other and Derek sighed in relief. Stiles kept massaging his calves, knowing the cramp could return and hoping to forestall the pain. Pushing the legs of his pyjamas up over his knees, he continued the massage, wondering if Derek would be able to fall into sleep under the soothing touch. 

Abruptly, Derek sat up and thrust his hands away from where they were working.

“That’s enough. Unless you get some kind of cheap thrill from handling the cripple? Otherwise, I’m sure Chris would be more than pleased to reach some kind of happy ending from one of your massages – there’s no chance I’ll be getting one.”

“Jesus, is there a reason you’re being more of a dick than usual? Because if anyone else had made a comment like that, they’d be picking their teeth up off the floor.” Stiles moved off the bed, trying to rein in his temper. “You know damned well I’m not seeing Chris, nor do I have any intention of doing so. I’m beginning to wonder if you’ve got some weird fetish for the man the way you keep bringing him up!”

“Chance would be a fine thing!” Derek retorted with venom and Stiles decided he had had just about enough. 

“Do you want to tell me just what’s crawled up your ass because as far as I can tell, your brains have dribbled out of your ears!”

“NOTHING has crawled up my ass! Jesus Christ, Stiles, not everything is about what you can do!” 

“Will you just tell me what the hell is going on? I am far too tired to be dealing with your shit – if this is about that kiss – “

“It is but it isn’t! God, Stiles, you think you can fix everything that’s wrong with me – I thought learning to walk again would – but – “

“Spit it out, Derek!”

“I’m impotent!”

Stiles sat in stunned silence, unable to comprehend what Derek had said. It appeared that once he had said the words, the dam was broken as the words poured out of him.

“I didn’t think about it before because what was there to arouse me? It didn’t matter anyway because if I couldn’t walk then – but what if I can never – I know sex isn’t _everything_ but I just can’t face the thought of – “

Stiles’ mind had gone blank. He was a physical therapist, not a sex therapist. It was the height of irony that Derek was talking to Stiles about the whole thing – what the hell would he know about sex? But he couldn’t take the risk that this would prey on Derek’s mind, would lead him down a dark path, so he grasped for something to say. 

“I don’t understand why you think you should be aroused by me! I mean – I’m a therapist – it’s totally unethical for there to be any sort of sexual relationship between us – I haven’t been trying to seduce you, or even raise some interest. You _shouldn’t_ think of me like that – I – I’m more of a mother figure, you said it yourself!”

“You fucking don’t remind me of my mother!” Derek spoke heavily, chest heaving slightly.

“Okay, yeah, well – Derek, did you seriously think that just because you put all of your weight onto your legs that everything would just _spring_ into action? I mean, give your body a break will ya?” He scrabbled to find the right words to help. “I honestly would have been surprised if you had been – responding – like that! You’ve had a lot on your mind and frankly, dude, you were in terrible shape!”

“I’m not in terrible shape now!”

Well, shit – he was right. Stiles took a moment to consider Derek as he lay there in just his pyjama bottoms. He was still lean but it was more of a muscle covered leanness now – even his legs had fleshed out and he was much more in proportion. He was built along the same lines as Stiles and it was disconcerting to look at the changes that had been so gradual but so effective. Derek regularly beat him during their arm-wrestling matches; he could keep up with Stiles in the pool even though his legs didn’t work; he was a natural athlete and his body had responded to the training with alacrity, his arms, shoulders and chest showing the benefits of weight lifting, his skin bronzed from their time in the pool. He actually looked healthier than a lot of _normal_ people. It was disturbing to face all of the changes suddenly like that, and he could finally see what Laura had been getting at when she spoke about getting ‘her’ Derek back.

“You’re better – but you’re not at full strength yet. And your focus has been on your physical therapy – as it should be – and I think you’re being unrealistic to expect sexual responses. It’s not like you’ve had that type of stimuli. You’re expecting too much, Derek.”

“No, Stiles, I’m expecting what any **normal** human male expects – you’re so full of self-confidence about everything else, this has you stymied doesn’t it?” Slightly stung by the implication that he wasn’t a normal human male – even if Derek wasn’t aware of it – Stiles snapped back. 

“I just think you shouldn’t worry about it – things will get back to normal – “

“Don’t _worry_ about it? This isn’t acne or – or – any other little malady you can think of! If I can’t even function – “

“It **is** possible to function without sex you know – it isn’t the be-all and end-all of life!” Derek looked at him shrewdly and Stiles squirmed under his scrutiny.

“Is this still about me? Because – just how long have you been here without receiving a single phone call or letter? You haven’t gone out for companionship – don’t you have boyfriends? What is it out there that frightens you so much?” Derek’s voice was kind but relentless. “What happened to you, Stiles?”

“Nothing that you need to know about – let’s just focus on – “

“You’re terrified of something – maybe I’m not the only one in need of a therapist.” Feeling cold from the inside-out, Stiles took a step back from the bed, trying to hide away from that all too searching gaze.

“Call me if you need me to work on your legs. Good night.”

* * *

Stiles lay there unable to sleep that night. His mind was working overtime on his past, on what he had never been able to overcome, on what it meant for his future. Derek was right inasmuch as Stiles had heard from no-one since he came to the house – who would he hear from? There was no one out there for him, no person who loved him, wanted him – there was no need to be frightened of anything out there when he held all of his fear and terror inside. 

Determined to not drown in his past, he tried to focus. What the hell could he do about Derek’s issue? He knew nothing about arousing interest in a person – he had spent his entire life trying to do the complete opposite. On the surface, the problem was simple: Derek needed to know that he was still capable of a sexual response. It hadn’t been an issue before because his life had shrunk down to his inability to walk, and he had been surrounded by people who caused no response from him. It wasn’t the time for him to start dating, even if he was the type of man who would accept being helped in and out of vehicles, using his wheelchair in public – he would see it as a weakness rather than a normal way of life. 

So, that left Stiles. Who couldn’t even accept a simple kiss from the man without damned near having a panic attack? But it didn’t have to go as far as kissing – Derek merely needed to know that he _could_ respond – he didn’t need to follow through with anything. 

The idea that came to Stiles was so completely off-piste that it reminded him of times when he and Scott – 

Mentally skidding to a halt, Stiles made himself get back on topic. What if _he_ could get a response from Derek? Just enough of one to reassure him that all of his parts were in working order. Then his therapy could continue without being derailed and once Stiles was gone, Derek could get back to a normal, fully-functioning existence. There was no way he could allow the situation to progress into something physical – not only because of his own issues. Professional integrity meant that it would be completely unethical. 

So, how did he attract someone like Derek? He wasn’t even sure he was Derek’s type. The problem was what found him standing in front of the mirror in his room wearing just his boxer shorts, contemplating his body in a way that he never did. He was built lean, his shoulders maybe too broad for his frame. He was only slightly tanned, his moles something that meant he was always extremely careful out in the sun – was his paleness a turn-off? He guessed his face was okay – he wasn’t ugly but he wasn’t an oil painting either. He had nice eyes but his mouth was out of proportion, a little too big for his face. What the hell did he know about attracting someone? His clothes were another issue in themselves – he wore baggy sweatpants, some with the bottom half cut off and boring tee-shirts or sleeveless tanks that gave him room to move around. None of his clothes would ever be described as sexy. 

He was so engrossed in staring at himself that he didn’t hear the sounds of Derek’s chair until it was too late, the rumbling early morning voice breaking into his thoughts with a slightly ill-tempered “Lazybones, you overslept this morning!” the only warning he had before Derek appeared in the doorway, mouth dropping open as he took in the sight of Stiles practically naked in front of him.

* * *


	18. Shopping Marathon

They both froze. Good manners dictated that Derek leave the room but he appeared unable to do anything other than stare. They spent a lot of time together, but this seemed far more intimate and Stiles could feel a blush rise to cover his body as Derek looked him up and down, taking in every exposed inch of him. How was this so different from being in a pair of swimming shorts with the man?

Derek’s intent look was almost like a physical touch and Stiles could feel his body responding, his nipples tightening into points, his boxer shorts becoming uncomfortably tight. 

“Good Lord – I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone blush from head to toe before.” Derek’s voice was husky, the tone something Stiles was unfamiliar with. 

Suddenly aware of his body’s response to Derek’s tone and attention, Stiles turned away, moving to get closer to the bed to reach for the sleeveless tank lying there. “Jesus – did you never learn to knock? Get out!”

There was no sound the chair moving away and when Derek spoke next, his tone was filled with amusement. “Even the backs of your knees are pink!”

“Will you please get out?”

“Why are you so embarrassed? I’ve seen you in a swimming costume – although, I admit, I’ve never actually _looked_ at your body! You are a tribute to your own therapy program – all lean lines and strength, but that skin – “

“Would you please leave? I can’t stand here all day for your amusement!”

“Don’t hurry on my account – I must admit, I am seriously enjoying the view. Is your skin as soft as it looks?”

His embarrassment turning to anger, Stiles turned his head to look at Derek over his shoulder. “I **will** be getting you back for this!”

Derek just gave him a lazy smile, obviously having no intention of leaving and with a huff of rage, Stiles moved to the bed. Before he could grab his shirt that would, hopefully, be long enough to cover his burgeoning erection, the sound of Derek’s chair moving closer made him halt. Derek’s hand appeared in his peripheral vision, grabbing the tee-shirt before Stiles could and moving it out of reach. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful when you’re angry?” His taunt from weeks ago echoed in his ears and Stiles snapped.

“Then I must be fucking gorgeous because I am incandescent with rage right now!” He jumped slightly as he felt the lightest touch on his hip bone above the waistband of his boxer shorts, then a finger-tip tracing down the outside of his leg, grazing the curve of his ass. A glance over his shoulder showed Derek seemed completely transfixed by what he was seeing.

“I’ll see you downstairs for breakfast.” Allowing his fingers to drift away from Stiles’ thigh, Derek threw the shirt back onto the bed and reversed the chair, leaving Stiles standing feeling confused and conflicted. As the bedroom door closed, Stiles turned and threw the shirt at it, feeling impotent with rage. His brain started to come up with all manner of revenge plots but most of them had to be nixed due to the concern of physical harm. 

It took him a few minutes to realise that what had happened actually played very well into the scheme he had come up with the night before. This was most definitely the first time that Derek had looked at him and seen a man rather than a tormenting therapist – just the shock on his face as he had looked Stiles’ body up and down said that. Without even trying, Stiles had made Derek aware of him as a person, something he wouldn’t have had a clue how to do under any other circumstances.

The revelation was what got him through the day. Derek always seemed to be watching him as they went through their weights routine, then returned to the bars. Then his focus was on standing whilst Stiles took his legs through walking motions, reminding them once again what they were meant to do. Stiles tried his best to remain cool and impersonal, working Derek hard but no harder than he would normally. 

Derek kept up a continuous stream of cursing at the pain he endured, but he didn’t want to stop, determined to stand for longer each time. He paid for it with further cramps that night, no opportunity for intimate discussions as Stiles massaged his legs on and off throughout the night. The next morning, Stiles made sure to lock his bedroom door as he got ready, smiling as he imagined the look on Derek’s face when he found out about the change in their normal routine.

It was over breakfast that he casually asked, “I was going to call an uber – I need to get some shopping done and today seems as good a time as any.”

“Has this got anything to do with what we talked about the other night?” Derek stopped inhaling his breakfast long enough to ask, giving Stiles a piercing look.

“Vain much? Not everything is about you, Derek.” Stiles was pleased with how natural he sounded. “I just need some things – I’m not much on shopping so I tend to put it off for as long as I can. And I never seem to find the stuff I want online so internet shopping tends to be a bust.”

“Do you know Beacon Hills at all?” Derek drank his milk in several long gulps, long since inured to drinking it without protest.

“Nope, not even remotely. But surely it’s got a mall?”

“Stiles, how can you have been here for so long and know nothing about the place?” Derek looked thoughtful. “Maybe I should give Laura a call – she loves shopping and that way I wouldn’t worry about you getting lost and ending up in the Preserve eaten by wild animals!”

“Oh, no need to do that – I wouldn’t want to disturb her!”

“Seriously? I think she would love the opportunity to get you to herself – she’s completely fascinated by you for some unknown reason!”

“Must be my all-encompassing charm and good looks!”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” Derek made a quick call and he didn’t seem to have to put in any effort to get Laura to agree. “She’s on her way – she said she’s bored stiff anyway and spending money is more fun when it’s for someone else.”

“Humph.” It wasn’t long before Laura arrived at the house, dressed in a chic white sundress and sandals that were obviously intended to ensure she was comfortable during their shopping expedition. Stiles put on a baggy pair of jeans, ignoring the all-encompassing look Derek gave him when he returned downstairs ready for the expedition. 

“Have fun.” Derek saw them off at the door, smiling at Stiles. With Laura’s back turned to him as she walked to the waiting SUV, Stiles gave Derek the finger and ignored the laughter that followed him into the car.

* * *

As they pulled into a large mall, Laura turned to Stiles. “Derek said you had some shopping to do – anything in particular?”

Stiles appreciated the fact that she didn’t give his clothes more than a cursory glance – it was obvious that Laura loved fashion and Stiles’ lack of sartorial elegance was more than evident when they were stood together. 

“Everything to be honest – from the skin upwards. I realised that I still dress the same was I did in college and wanted something a little more – grown-up I guess?” Laura gave him an assessing look then nodded. 

“Okay, leave it to me.” By the time they broke for lunch a few hours late, Stiles felt like he had run a marathon and Laura looked smugly satisfied. He had tried on more variation of jeans than he had known existed – apparently he suited skinny jeans as they accentuated his ass according to the salesman; he had a plethora of graphic tees and tanks that suited him but looked far less ‘student-chic’ and more ‘adult-fan’; sweatpants and swimwear that was sleek and fitted and somehow made his body look far less lanky and more sexily lean – it all led to a pile of shopping bags and an exhausted Stiles. Laura was getting her second wind, talking about getting him a haircut since the tousled mess on his head was rapidly reaching the sheepdog status that he had accused Derek of not so long ago.

“You know, this looks very much like war.” Stiles startled at her comment, taking a sip of his green tea to try to give himself time to think. “I could almost pity Derek for being the target of such firepower – almost, but not quite. Stiles – are you in love with Derek?” 

Stiles choked, stunned at even the remote possibility that all of this had anything to do with how he felt. Derek was merely a patient, someone that Stiles was responsible for and he was just – just – 

“Jesus Christ, am I really that obvious?” 

“Not to most people, but I have seen you two together.” Laura’s voice was kind and Stiles slumped in his chair, letting her see his vulnerability. 

“It’s no use – this will never work! Just because I wear slightly better clothes – “

“Ahem! Much more than _slightly_ thank you!”

“ – doesn’t mean that Derek and I even match! Why would he look at me when he’s so close to getting back to the real world and people far better suited to the man he is?”

“Are you serious? I have **never** seen anyone needle Derek the way you do – he’s surrounded by yes-men and women constantly and he’s bored by it! He loves how you challenge him, can even beat him – he has always thrived on challenges and it’s been a delight to see that trait returning.” Laura reached forward across the lunch table. “Stiles – all you need to do is stand still and look at him and you have one hundred per cent of his attention – believe me, the clothes are merely a prop, a way of letting him know that you _want_ to be seen.”

Did he want to be seen? Allowing Laura to steer him towards the hair salon she said would perform miracles with his neglected hair, Stiles wondered just who he was doing all of this for?

* * *


	19. Turnabout is Fair Play

Derek wasn’t in evidence when they returned from their expedition, something Stiles was relieved about. He didn’t want him to see the sheer plethora of shopping bags that Stiles, Laura and Erica dragged into the house because he would no doubt have plenty of questions. Erica merely grinned when she ‘accidentally’ peeked into one of the bags and Stiles wondered just how much of the household had decided he had feelings for Derek while he had had zero clue? 

“Where is he?” 

“In the gym – I think he’s trying to make Boyd sweat but I could have told him it takes _real_ effort to make that happen.” Laura and Erica giggled at her comment and Stiles shook his head – he was surrounded by scary women. 

“Do you mind if I stay for dinner? I would _love_ to see Derek’s initial reaction to your new look and Chris is out tonight.”

“Absolutely! Besides, I don’t think it’s going to have _that_ much of an impact.” Stiles threw his burden onto his bed, still slightly stunned by the sheer amount of shopping he had done. He was going to have to throw away the majority of his old wardrobe just to fit all of this in, which might have been Laura’s cunning plan all along. 

“Oh, Stiles – I never knew you were so blind.” Laura left to entertain herself in the den while Stiles changed into a new fitted pair of sweatpants and sleeveless tank. He looked in the mirror, trying to see if there was a major difference but apart from the fact that the clothes were conspicuously crisp-looking rather than his usual slightly crumpled look, he couldn’t see any real difference in his attire. His hair, on the other hand, was going to take some getting used to. The stylist that Laura had managed to get him in with had cut away with abandon and Stiles had been mildly concerned that he was going to end up with something resembling his childhood buzz-cut – something he most definitely did not want to return to. Instead, his hair was an artful array of spike and slight curls, sun-lightened tips rising from his head like what he could only compare to a meringue. He had been persuaded to have a facial and his skin did look good – he might need to consider doing a bit more to look after it than slathering it in sun-cream. The lip balm recommended by the stylist had no colour, but Stiles felt like his lips stood out far more than was comfortable – looking at his face, he could see that there was something different about him. An awareness that hadn’t been there before, perhaps? Whatever it was, he was happy to turn away from the mirror and head down to the gym to more familiar territory.

* * *

Derek was on the bars, balancing himself with his hands, while Boyd was on his knees moving Derek’s feet in walking motions. From the looks of both of them, they had been working pretty much the entire time that Stiles had been out shopping, and despite what Erica had said, Boyd had worked up a sweat. 

Derek looked like he'd been working hard all morning: he wore a pair of gym shirts and had improvised a sweatband by tying his shirt around his forehead. He was literally dripping with sweat and obviously in pain, but was determined to keep going.

“Time for the whirlpool,” Stiles announced, concerned that Derek could potentially do himself more harm than good. Boyd looked relieved, rising to full height and stepping back to grab the wheelchair. Derek shook his head, scowling.

“Another half-hour,” he gritted out.

“Nope – I really don’t want to have to tackle you into the whirlpool but I’ll do it. Besides, Boyd looks like he could do with a break and I believe Erica said something about you owing her a kiss?” The lie helped Derek save face as he sank gratefully into the chair.

“Thanks, Boyd.”

“Anytime, Derek.” Boyd nodded to Stiles as he left the room, more than aware that his wife had sent no such message.

Stiles bent over to switch on the whirlpool, turning swiftly when he heard a grunt from Derek. It didn’t appear to be a pained grunt and Derek gave him a cheeky smile as he wheeled himself over and used the pulley system to get himself into the pool. He sighed in relief as the pulsing jets began to do their work, pounding at his sore muscles. 

“I didn’t expect you to be gone all day.”

“Laura got the bit between her teeth and there was nothing I could do – your sister is a force of nature when she gets going, a bit like her brother I guess.” Stiles stretched, back aching. “Shopping uses a whole set of muscles that I haven’t been working on.” 

He opened his eyes to find Derek staring at him with appreciation, his eyes cataloguing the different clothing as well as the new haircut. Stiles flushed, unsure whether he should say something.

“You could always join me.” The invitation sounded casual but the way Derek was looking at Stiles had him running scared. 

“Not this time – I need to set up for your massage. So, how did you get Boyd in here to help you?” Stiles set the massage oil into a bowl of hot water, wiping down the massage table and putting a towel onto the towel warmer in preparation for Derek getting out of the pool. 

“A mixture of begging and ordering – he was afraid he’d do something against your instructions. You appear to have everyone working for you rather than me.”

“Nah – they’re all doing this because they want you back. You know how much your staff adore you, Derek.” Stiles sounded slightly sarcastic but his words were sincere. Derek seemed to engender a sense of devotion and loyalty that spoke well of his character. 

“Okay, that’s enough.” Stiles watched as Derek pulled himself out of the whirlpool. In such a short space of time it seemed, Derek had made adjustments to the gym that meant that he didn’t have to rely on Stiles to get him in and out of the various equipment. It was impressive and he wanted to be sure to speak to Derek and Chris about making the modifications available on a wider scale at some point.

He helped Derek settle onto the massage table, laying the warmed towel over his hips before beginning to massage his arms and shoulders. 

“So, how long before I’ll be able to walk?” Derek’s voice was a murmur as he relaxed into the firm movements. 

“First steps or walking around?”

“First steps.”

“Depends on how well the therapy program has been tailored. I would say approximately six weeks but it could be less time than that or a little more. It won’t happen if you do yourself an injury by ignoring my instructions, however.” 

“And the pain – when will that ease?”

“When your muscles become accustomed to the work we’re asking of them. I think it’s already eased slightly hasn’t it?” Derek nodded. “Are your legs still numb?”

“Hell no. I can definitely tell when you’re touching me now. But after those cramps last night – well, let’s just say I could have done without them.”

“Ah, the price you pay!” Stiles slapped Derek on the backside. “Turn over.” 

“I like your workout kit.” Derek looked Stiles up and down once he had turned over and was lying on his back, his gaze admiring. “it’s a hell of a lot better than those raggedly looking sweats you normally wear.”

Stiles flushed. It would appear that his plan was working already – the look Derek was giving him was admiring and he seemed to be taking notice of Stiles differently. 

“You have such strong legs – I’ve seen you swimming and working out, but those sweatpants make them look very lean and strong.” Stiles merely nodded, unsure how to take the compliment. He turned slightly, beginning to work on Derek’s legs, then jumped as he felt a touch on his hip. “You actually have a look of restrained power – it’s a good look on you.” The fingers trailed down to his thighs as though Derek was cataloguing the muscles under the tight material.

“Derek!”

“What? You’re playing with my legs – turnabout is fair play after all.” Stiles gasped as Derek’s hand kept moving until it was touching his inner thigh. 

“Derek! Seriously – can you let me go please?” Without thinking, he pressed his legs together, trapping Derek’s hand as it began to slide upwards. 

“God, you must have a grip like a vice!” Stiles gulped.

“Let me go please.” Derek looked up at his face.

“Okay.” Stiles gave a sigh of relief. “If you give me a kiss.”

* * *


	20. Said the Spider to the Fly...

Stiles’ heart was slamming in his chest as he looked down at Derek. The other man made no further move, his hand resting warmly on Stiles’ inner thighs.

“What – just one kiss?”

“I don’t know – one kiss might turn into two. If you want it to.” Derek tilted his head as he considered Stiles. “You’re not violating any ethical oath, I promise. We’ve kissed before and it wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Stiles shook his head, still unsure. 

“I promise, I won’t see it as a prelude to involvement – I just want a kiss.” He made it sound so reasonable, his face relaxed as he looked at Stiles as though his hand wasn’t causing havoc to Stiles’ body. “Don’t be shy.”

Inwardly grimacing at the idea that Derek thought he was shy when he was, in fact, terrified, Stiles nodded before leaning down and pressing his lips to the other man’s. It was as light as a butterfly wing, a fleeting touch that shouldn’t have further inflamed the feelings coursing through Stiles’ body. He lifted his head, caught by the passion in Derek’s eyes.

“Call that a kiss?” Derek’s voice was husky and Stiles couldn’t stop himself from smiling. That was Derek all over – give him an inch and he would take a mile. Without giving himself time to think, he lowered his head once more and pressed his lips more firmly against Derek’s.

He couldn’t tell which of them opened their mouths first – he was just aware of Derek’s tongue probing his mouth, of stroking his tongue against the other man’s, of how fast his breathing was becoming and the liquid heat that was building in his stomach. Derek’s hand gripped his thigh tighter, not moving any further up but Stiles wanted it to – he wanted Derek’s hand to touch him, to pull down his sweatpants and – 

Stiles broke the kiss, leaning back slightly and putting his hand to his swollen lips. Derek’s eyes were dark and slumberous, mouth reddened and swollen. 

“I – “

“I am a man of my word.” Derek slid his hand just a little further up Stiles’ thigh before slipping it free completely. “I’m starving.”

“I hope Erica doesn’t feed you after you put Boyd through all of that today.” 

“You can feed me from your plate. You wouldn’t want me to go hungry would you, Stiles?” Their gazes locked and Stiles found himself wondering if Derek was still talking about food. The hunger in his eyes, the way he looked – 

“I don’t – ” Derek smiled before sitting up, crumpling the towel in his lap. 

“I need to grab some clothes – I’ll meet you in the dining room?” Stiles could only nod as Derek manoeuvred himself from the massage table to his wheelchair before leaving the room. What the hell was all that about? It almost felt like Derek was the one scheming, not Stiles.

* * *

Dinner was a peaceful affair with Laura sharing humorous anecdotes from their shopping trip. Chris turned up, stating that his plans had changed and Stiles was surprised after they had eaten when Chris came over to him.

“Could I speak to you – out on the patio?” Nodding, Stiles followed the other man as he stepped outside. “Don’t worry – Derek is showing Laura some blueprints he’s working on.” He hesitated to go off with Chris alone, not because he thought Chris would make a pass but because things were going well and he didn’t want to set off any further suspicions. But he resented the idea that he couldn’t talk to a friend because of other people’s suspicious minds so tried to put Laura and Derek out of his thoughts.

“Is everything going okay?”

“No. To be honest Stiles, things are far from okay.” Chris looked weary, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’ve tried, I really have. But every time I think things are getting better there’s this little voice in the back of my head that says she’ll always love Derek more than she loves me. That feels so – petty.”

“It’s not petty – she’s your wife and you want to know she loves you as much as you love her. But why put all of the blame onto Laura? Derek is just as much to blame if you want to call it that.”

“Because I don’t love Derek so I don’t really give a shit!” Chris laughed ruefully. “I sound like a kid whose favourite toy has been taken away from him.”

“I’m sorry, Chris. What are you going to do?”

“I have no fucking clue! I’m just – trapped.” Stiles wished he could find some way to comfort Chris. “Even with all of his attention on you, Laura still doesn’t feel like she’s mine.”

“His attention isn’t all on me – “

“Oh, Stiles, it really is! I worry about you – what happens when Derek re-enters the real world and doesn’t need you as much?”

“I’m used to that, Chris. It comes with the job after all.”

“And how many of your clients fall in love with you?”

“It’s not real, but it wouldn’t be the first time.” Stiles shifted uncomfortably at the turn the conversation had taken. 

“But is it the first time you’ve fallen in love in return?” 

“I don’t – “

“I’m not blind, Stiles. You’ve changed since you’ve been here, and I don’t just mean your clothes or your new haircut. Watching you and Derek together, it’s obvious there’s more between you than therapist and patient.”

“I would **never** do anything to coerce a patient – “

“That isn’t what I meant. To be honest, I think it’s far more likely that Derek is influencing you. And I’m worried about what happens to you when this is all over.”

“The same as always happens, Chris. I go back to being alone.”

* * *

Laura smiled at Stiles when he returned with Chris, jubilant as apparently, she had beaten Derek at chess. Derek, on the other hand, was looking between Stiles and Chris with a look in his eye that didn’t bode well.

He dressed for bed in some of the new yoga pants Laura had insisted he buy, saying that apart from being incredibly comfortable to sleep in, they made his ass look insane. He couldn’t see it himself, but as with most of the shopping, he had let the sales assistants and Laura guide him. 

When he poked his head around the door to say goodnight, Derek spoke evenly but his tone said he was deadly serious.

“Stiles – Laura’s marriage to Chris is holding on by a thread. Please don’t do anything to make things worse between them.”

“I can’t believe you’re still coming out with that bullshit. If anything happens between Laura and Chris, it has absolutely nothing to do with me. I’m not a homewrecker or some kind of slut! Goodnight.” Returning to his room, Stiles stood for a moment feeling the anger surge within him. Why would Derek assume something like that? Did he think that Stiles had gone through all of these changes for Chris’s sake? The thought stayed in his head as he fell asleep, and he woke heavily when he heard his name being called. Recognising the tone of pain in Derek’s voice, he wasn’t surprised to see the other man writhing around on the bed. 

He went to work instantly, massaging both legs until the cramp had eased. 

“It’s my foot too,” Derek groaned, and Stiles went to work on his feet, unaware of how intently he was being watched. 

“There – that should be better.” As he looked at Derek up the length of the bed, he froze. “I thought you said you were impotent.”

Derek seemed just as stunned Stiles as he looked down into his own lap then back to Stiles. 

“I was just thinking those sleep pants don’t hide a damned thing and your body would rouse the dead.” Derek’s voice was husky, a blush staining his cheeks. 

“I – that should do it for tonight.” Unable to think of anything else to say, his mouth feeling dry and his hands clammy, Stiles turned and walked out of the room.

* * *


	21. One giant step for mankind...

Stiles returned to wearing his normal clothes – after all, the new ones had served their purpose. Unfortunately, Derek didn’t seem to notice the difference. Stiles got used to doing Derek’s massage whilst Derek stroked up and down his legs; he accepted the heavy-lidded glances Derek slid his way; the sensual way their bodies brushed against each other when they were swimming; and he did his best to ignore what his brain was screaming at him – that he was too involved and he needed to step back. He did make a call to Deaton, however, something that he thought was necessary to protect himself in the future.

Far sooner than Stiles had expected, Derek stood alone not using his hands at all. He swayed momentarily but regained his balance, shooting Stiles a triumphant grin as he did so. From that point on, Derek worked harder than he had before, determined to end his dependency on his wheelchair. He paid for it every night with awful cramps, but he used the pain to spur him on. Stiles no longer organised his therapy – he merely did whatever he could to facilitate Derek’s drive, soothing his muscles with massages and judicious use of the whirlpool. 

It was difficult to admit to himself that the others were right and that he _was_ in love with Derek. He had faced too much in the past to allow himself the self-deception. And once he admitted it, his decision to speak to Deaton seemed more and more fortuitous – he could allow himself to admire Derek, to treasure every moment of the workouts, the lunches and the dinners. He could allow himself to enjoy being in love. 

Early November brought the milestone he had been working with Derek so ferociously for and dreading with equal measure. Derek had been working on the bars all morning, forcing his feet to follow his directives with limited success. He was bathed in sweat, the muscles of his arms and shoulders gleaming in the light coming through the doors to the gym. Stiles himself was exhausted by the effort of crouching beside him, moving his feet in the proper motions that he slouched to the floor.

“Let’s just rest a moment, Derek.”

Derek’s nostrils flared and he made a snarling sound. His hands were gripping the bars with determination as he flexed his muscles and then it happened: his right foot moved erratically forward. He sagged on the bars, his head falling forward as Stiles scrambled to his feet and reached out for him. Before he could touch him, Derek pulled his shoulders back and began the same agonising process with his left foot. His entire body shook with the strain he was putting it under, but slowly, surely, the left foot mirrored the action of the right – it dragged a little more, but it moved. Stiles stood rooted to the spot, tears streaming down his face as he watched the man he loved work so hard for what he wanted, no _needed_.

Stiles couldn’t take it any longer, reaching forward and yanking Derek into his arms, burying his face in Derek’s shoulder. Derek wavered for a moment, then stood strong and it dragged more tears from Stiles that he was privileged enough to be here for this incredible moment. Strong arms wrapped around him and Derek pulled him closer. 

“Ssh, don’t cry, Stiles – it’s okay, don’t cry.” Derek’s hand swept up and down Stiles’ back in comforting motions. “You did this – you made this possible – I cannot tell you how much it means to me – but – thank you! No more tears, Stiles – no more tears for either of us.”

Blindly, Stiles accepted the comfort offered, unable to understand the words but appreciating the tone more than he could say. He lifted his head, taking Derek’s mouth in a desperate kiss, tasting him passionately, possessively even as he accepted that this was the first steps towards the end. Derek gave back as good as he got, grip on Stiles tightening until they were pressed together from chest to groin. As he stopped concentrating on standing, he wavered once again, but this time neither of them managed to stop the fall to the floor. All that Stiles could do was turn so that he took the brunt of the impact, Derek landing on top of him with a thud. 

Even that wasn’t enough to stop them from kissing, Stiles wrapping his leg around one of Derek’s to hold him close as they explored each other’s mouths with abandon. It was minutes before they stopped, Derek pulling back and looking down at Stiles with a grin on his face.

“Have you ever noticed just how much time we spend on the floor?” It wasn’t that funny, but in his heightened state Stiles found it hysterical, unable to hold back the whoops of laughter as Derek began to chuckle. As their laughter died down, they settled more comfortably together. “So – what now?”

“Repetition. The more you do it, the easier it will become. But now is the time to be careful – you don’t want to over-work your muscles or have an accident. Slow and steady, Derek, although I know that goes against everything you do!”

“Give me a time.”

“You and your need for deadlines. I’ll be able to give you a proper ballpark figure in a week. But, and I do so hate to gloat,” Stiles grinned. “I will be keeping my promise to you – you’ll be walking by Christmas.”

“Six weeks.”

“But with a cane,” Stiles added hastily.

“ _Without_ a cane!” Derek insisted, and Stiles shrugged, not willing to go against Derek’s prediction. He had far surpassed Stiles’ expectations and it would be no surprise at all if Derek ended up walking with no cane. 

“If you say so, Derek.” It felt strangely peaceful to lie together like this, even if it was on the floor, and Stiles found himself enjoying the weird intimacy. 

“I’ve been thinking about going back to work.” Derek’s statement took him by surprise, but he nodded. Derek needed new challenges and a return to normality – it only made sense that he return to work. “I was thinking about the beginning of the New Year, but I didn’t want it to interfere with therapy. What do you think?”

Stiles’ throat clogged with emotion momentarily, and he coughed to clear it. “You’ll be out of therapy by then and can resume your normal schedule. If you want to continue your exercise program – gotta keep up these buff new muscles somehow, dude – that’s up to you, but obviously you have all of this equipment here now. It’s about maintaining what you’ve achieved and I’d be able to draw up a program for you to follow.”

Derek’s pale eyes flashed. “What do you mean, for me to follow?” Ducking his head slightly to avoid Derek’s gaze, Stiles withdrew his arms. Derek moved back, rolling off of Stiles and coming to a seat next to him. Stiles scrambled to his feet, offering his hand to Derek who used it as a lever to pull himself to a standing position. Had it not occurred to Derek that once his therapy was over, Stiles would be leaving? It wasn’t unusual – patients could become so inwardly reflecting that they didn’t consider other people’s responsibilities. 

“I won’t be here – you’ll finally be rid of me,” Stiles said calmly, hiding his inner turmoil. “I’m a therapist, it’s what I do for a living. I’ll have moved on to my next case. You won’t need me any more, Derek – you’ll be walking and most likely dancing by then! You get your life back – isn’t that what you wanted all along?” 

Derek looked stunned.

“But you’re **_my_** therapist!” Derek sounded like a petulant child and Stiles laughed despite the feeling that his heart was breaking. 

“Dude – don’t pout! Just think – you haven’t ruined my near-perfect record, and get to go out and find yourself some young twink that can put up with your appalling temper and need to throw yourself off tall buildings!” Stiles took in the truculent look on Derek’s face. “Derek, your perspective is distorted by the isolation we’ve been in. I’ve been your person for the last few months and it’s perfectly normal to be possessive. That feeling will fade. Hell, give it a year and I’ll be lucky to get a postcard from you!”

“Do you really think I’d forget you? You dropped into my life like a god-damn bomb – you changed my very existence! Do you really think so little of me that you think I won’t – that I don’t – “ Stiles put his hand against Derek’s lips, desperate to stop him saying something he might regret. 

“Hey – how about some champagne to celebrate? It’s not every day you get off your lazy ass and walk now, is it?” He knew the look on his face was pleading, and Derek looked at him stubbornly before nodding his acceptance. Now wasn’t the time for this conversation.

* * *


	22. Champagne and Celebrations

They had champagne. A phone call or two had Chris and Laura turning up together, with Laura predictably bursting into tears at the news. Chris merely slapped Derek on the back and said ‘Thank Christ, now I can have that nervous breakdown!” 

Derek rounded up everyone and between them, they sank two entire bottles of champagne in the first set of celebrations. Boyd silently raised his glass to Derek and the two shared a silent communication that Stiles would have dearly loved to interpret. Erica was uncharacteristically speechless, hugging Derek hard and leaving a huge red lipstick print on his cheek. Lydia gave Stiles a smile of self-satisfied complicity, then promptly sank three glasses of champagne in quick succession. It was fascinating watching the change come over her as the alcohol took effect – her red hair slipped out of its perfect chignon, her red lipstick wasn’t perfect for once, and by the end of the third glass, she looked quite impish. 

It took some time to calm Laura down from her tears – she cried on her brother’s shoulder, great wrenching sobs of relief that spoke volumes about how much she had been holding in for the last two years. Chris looked like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders and Stiles saw him leaning against the wall, almost grey-faced with relief and found himself thinking that Chris had been far too close to breaking down himself in his attempt to keep everything going. 

“Maybe you should take a break – let me get myself back up to scratch and then you’re on vacation for at least a month!” 

“I’m not gonna say no to that!” Chris replied.

“Oh, maybe we could take a second honeymoon!” Laura exclaimed with excitement, smiling at her husband. “Soak up some rays on a beach somewhere?”

“Maybe later. I think I might need some time to myself first.” Chris’s words weren’t cruel but they momentarily put a dampener on things. It was Laura who perked things up again, smiling through her tears.

“You deserve it – you have been absolutely magnificent the past two years and should receive the recognition for it.” Chris looked stunned as everyone nodded, raising their glasses to him. It was lovely to see.

Lydia went off to sort out something for everyone to eat, and they all burst into laughter at hearing her singing show tunes very loudly from the kitchen area. Dinner was an eclectic mixture of quesadillas, Cornish hen pie, grilled chicken and a dish that none of them could identify. It all tasted delicious even if the combinations were a little odd, and everyone sat around the large dinner table eating together, laughing, joking and drinking a lot more champagne. 

Erica and Boyd excused themselves first, and Stiles wasn’t even the slightest bit surprised since for the last half hour, Erica had practically been climbing her husband like a tree. A phone call came for Lydia and she gave a smug smile and called for an uber. Chris and Laura left last, with Laura hanging onto Chris’s arm and laughing like a loon. It was apparent that alcohol made her frisky as Chris was having to fight off her advances, although it had to be said that he wasn’t fighting particularly hard. 

Stiles went outside for some fresh air whilst Derek went up to bed. It was cool and tranquil outside, only vague sounds breaking the silence. Stiles wasn’t inebriated, having stopped drinking after one and a half glasses of champagne. He had wanted to fully remember the evening in its entirety – remember being surrounded by this family that had accepted him, cared for him, and let him be a part of them while they celebrated the achievement of the heart of their group. It was touching and heartbreaking at the same time because he knew the celebration meant his days here were numbered.

* * *

The next day began in a mundane fashion: a workout in the gym, breakfast, then time spent on the bars. Heading back to the gym after a bathroom break, Stiles was surprised to see Laura.

“He’s in the gym – “

“It’s not Derek I came to see – I came to see you!”

“Oh, right!” Laura surprised him by pulling him into a hug and kissing his cheek, acting as if that was how they greeted each other every day. 

“I wanted to know how your war was going on?” Stiles was confused, then realised she was referring to his shopping spree.

“Oh, yeah, fine – everything’s fine.” He tried to change the subject. “You’re looking far better than you have any right to after the amount you sank last night.”

“I wasn’t anywhere near as drunk as I made it seem! I used it as a way to get close to Chris – he can be a little stand-offish when he’s feeling offended and being a little helpless is the best way to get under his guard.” Stiles laughed a little at her subterfuge – she was very similar to Derek in the way she assessed her ‘enemy’s’ weakness. “Actually, you inspired me! If you can go after your man, then I should go after mine! I decided to seduce him and I succeeded very well, if I do say so myself! And I’ve decided that it’s time Chris and I had a baby.”

“Is that wise? With everything so up in the air – Derek just getting back onto his feet, how Chris is feeling?”

“Chris has wanted a child for quite some time but I’ve been scared. The thought of having more family that I could then lose – I couldn’t face it. He’ll realise that this is my way of saying that I’m in this with him one hundred percent.”

“As long as you’re sure, Laura. A baby isn’t meant to be the glue in a relationship – “

“I know. It’s not glue – it’s a lovely addition that makes things a little sweeter.” She smiled at Stiles. “I’m not fooling myself. I know I have a lot to make up for, and I fully intend to do everything I can to let him know that he’s **my** person. That I love Derek, but that Chris is my husband and – well, he means the world to me.”

“Then I wish you every success! He didn’t look unhappy with how the evening ended.” 

“Nope, he didn’t. That was the other thing I wanted to tell you – we won’t be coming over to dinner every night any more. We’ll still come over but I think Chris could do with coming back to his own castle and seeing that I’m there waiting for him.”

“You really have put a lot of thought into this, haven’t you?”

“Oh yes! This isn’t a skirmish – this is a full-scale war that I intend to win!” Laura laughed. “You can be the baby’s godfather!”

Stiles smiled and nodded, knowing that by the time any baby arrived, he would be long gone.

* * *


	23. Changes and Thanksgiving

Stiles began the process of arranging a new client. With Derek returning to work in the first week in January, Stiles reckoned he should give himself a little recovery time, then plan to be working again by the end of the month. He said nothing to anyone in the house, unwilling to face the likely discussion. 

With success so close, Derek became even more relentless. He pushed himself in the gym and Stiles could do little other than monitor what was happening, adjust his nutritional intake accordingly, and make sure his muscles received the best ‘after-care’ with massages and using the whirlpool. He was still suffering the severe cramps at night, and Stiles got used to having to catch 40 winks during the day because he spent so much time up with Derek. 

Leaving the wheelchair behind, Stiles got Derek to begin using a walker. The sheer joy of standing on his own two feet and getting places under his own steam meant that Derek didn’t mind the slow pace – at least for now. He spent a few hours each day working with Chris remotely and Stiles was aware that they wanted to make the pulley system Derek had designed for his house available to everyone. It was admirable but yet another pull on Stiles’ heart that he could ill afford. The thought that in the future he might be using that self-same system on someone else just – _hurt_.

Laura stuck to her word, no longer appearing daily. She called Derek during the day and made sure to chat to Stiles at the same time. Derek didn’t comment but Stiles got the impression he understood what she was doing. Lydia immediately made adjustments to the evening meal, and Stiles found that more often than not he shared an intimate dinner along with wine and soft music with Derek. He didn’t comment, despite the way he felt Derek watching him in the intimate atmosphere – it was yet another conversation he wasn’t sure he wanted to have. 

Laura and Chris invited them over for Thanksgiving, and as Boyd had the day off to spend with Erica, Stiles found himself responsible for driving. He was a competent driver but it was a far different experience from driving his old blue Jeep. The SUV felt massive in comparison and far more powerful, so Stiles had to concentrate as Derek sat next to him giving directions. Initially, Derek was stunned into silence – he hadn’t been outside recreationally for over a year, and he spent some time staring around at all of the differences he could see in buildings, cars and roads. Once he felt more settled, his devilish side came out, and Stiles almost jumped a mile when he felt Derek’s hand settle on his leg.

“Derek!”

“What?”

“That is distracting!”

“Good to know.” He stroked along Stiles’ leg, his hands warm through the smart trousers Stiles was wearing. 

“I meant – shift it”

“You’re normally so clear in your instructions – don’t do that, Derek; push harder, Derek; extend more, Derek.” He grinned over at Stiles. “Sorry, I forget what you actually said.”

“I said – “

“When will I be able to drive?” Trying to make the mental shift to keep up with Derek’s mercurial thoughts, Stiles gave it some thought.

“Once your reflexes are fast enough. You’ll probably have to undertake another driving test to ensure you meet the standards set, but I don’t think – DEREK!” This time, Derek’s hand had slipped between Stiles’ thighs, stroking at the muscles as they worked the pedals of the car.

“What?”

“I am not a Ken-doll for you to playing with!”

“I can see that!” Flushing deep at the implication that Derek could tell how aroused Stiles was feeling, he turned and gave the other man an evil look.

“Listen here you – “

“I’m not playing – I am deadly serious – “ 

“So am I – so help me, if you don’t stop playing with my legs – “

“But I love your legs!”

“Why don’t you go back to work tomorrow?” Stiles growled with frustration.

“We’re closed for the holidays – there would be nothing there for me to do.”

“I’ll give you something to do in a minute – picking your nuts out of your teeth because I’ll kick them up to your throat if you don’t stop it!” Derek just smirked, his hand sliding back and forth, feeling hot against Stiles’ leg. “If you don’t knock that off, you’re going to be _walking_ to Laura’s!” Derek laughed out loud, finally removing his hand.

“You don’t have any idea how good that sounds – we’re here!” Still fuming, Stiles pulled in where instructed before parking next to a car he recognised from when he had first met Chris. 

“You are a dick!”

“I know – but you love me anyway.” Before he could reply, the front door of the beautiful house in front of them opened, and Chris and Laura appeared. Three wide steps led up to the house and Stiles could clearly see that Laura wanted to come down and help her brother but she remained by Chris’s side, smiling. “Shit, I’d forgotten the steps. Okay, here goes.” 

Stiles realised that Derek was giving himself a pep talk and managed to restrain himself from doing the same, instead walking behind him as he slowly and steadily made his way up the steps. He turned to grin at Stiles over his shoulder.

“Not bad, eh?”

“Like a regular goat,” Stiles muttered back.

“A mountain goat?”

“A goat is a goat is a goat you pervert – Laura, how lovely to see you!” Stiles ignored Derek’s stifled laughter behind him as he gave Laura a hug and a kiss on the cheek, handing over the flowers they had brought with them. “And I think this is for you,” he said to Chris, giving him the bottle that had come from Derek’s private stash.

“Hey, Stiles – it’s good to see you! Whoa – you brought the good stuff – you can come in!” Chris was more relaxed than Stiles had ever seen him, a happy gleam in his eye, and it gave Stiles hope that he and Laura were managing to sort things out. 

The traditional dinner was prepared excellently, and they were all groaning by the time they had finished eating. Derek and Chris disappeared to Chris’s study to look at something while Stiles rolled up his sleeves to help Laura load the dishwasher.

“So how goes operation Chris?” he asked, observing Laura as she efficiently loaded the machine.

“Two steps forward, one back. He didn’t say a thing about us no longer eating at Derek’s place every night, but he calls regularly during the day for silly reasons – he’s just checking to see if I’m here. And he’s making a point of getting home earlier and earlier, so I think it’s going okay.” Laura gave him a shrewd look. “What about you?”

“Er – I think I’ve stalled a little. I’m not the most – _experienced_ of people,” Stiles confessed, avoiding the look Laura was giving him. 

“I get the feeling you were – hurt, in the past.” Stiles froze momentarily, a plate in his hand. “I – I know it’s none of my business and I’m not asking you to tell me. I just wanted to reassure you that Derek would _never_ hurt you. In any way.”

Stiles finished putting the plate into the dishwasher, finally looking up at Laura. 

“I know that – in my head, anyway. It’s just – sometimes it’s hard to remember that every other time.” 

“Then maybe you should talk to him – let him know what you’re scared of.” Laura looked over her shoulder to check if either Chris or Derek were coming into the kitchen. “I know about your phone call to Deaton – he contacted me regarding the whole billing thing and let it slip.”

“Shit!”

“I didn’t mention it – to Chris or Derek. And I think I understand why you did it, but I can tell you now, Derek isn’t going to be happy.” She put her hand on Stiles’ arm. “I really hope you’re able to find happiness, Stiles – and selfish though it might be, I can’t help but wish that it’s with my brother.” 

Stiles nodded, relieved when Laura launched into a completely unrelated story just as Derek and Chris came into the kitchen to help finish clearing up.

* * *


	24. Falling Deeper and Deeper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the change in rating to Mature.
> 
> * * *

Despite the clucking sounds Derek made intimating he was being a chicken, Stiles went directly to bed once they got back home, struggling to hide his laughter at Derek’s very accurate imitation.

Several hours later though, he hastened into Derek’s room, the cries the man was making letting him know this wasn’t a ruse. Massaging his calves and feet, Stiles kept going until Derek stopped moaning, looking up the bed to see how he was doing. The intense stare he received back made him gulp and let go of Derek’s legs, standing frozen at the bottom of the bed.

“You managed to make a complete disaster area of your bed,” he said for something to say. “Get up and I’ll remake it for you.”

Derek nodded his thanks, walking stiffly to one of the chairs in the room and watching as Stiles remade his bed.

“How long will the cramps go on for?”

“I don’t think it will be much longer. They’ve improved already, right?” Derek nodded. “You get them more in your left leg than your right too.”

“Does that mean I’ll have a limp?”

“Possible.” Stiles looked over his shoulder and smiled impishly at Derek. “You’ll look seriously hot with a cane though.” That surprised a laugh out of Derek, and Stiles got on with making the bed, pleased to have made Derek happy. 

When he stood up, having completed his self-imposed task, he realised that Derek had come to stand behind him. 

“Derek – “

“I just want to touch you – can I?”

“I don’t know – “ Derek’s hand came to rest on his shoulder lightly, the other man obviously making an attempt to be unthreatening as he gently turned Stiles around. When Stiles didn’t protest further, he traced the curve of his shoulder down to his bicep, his touch whisper soft and gentle on Stiles’ skin. 

“Your skin is so incredibly soft – almost like satin.” Stiles realised he was shaking as Derek moved his hand all the way down his arm, twining their fingers together. “Would it be easier if you touched me?” 

Dumbstruck by the offer, Stiles could only shrug, eyes caught by Derek’s direct gaze. He didn’t resist when Derek lifted his hand towards his chest, pressing it palm-down before taking his own hand away. Without volition, Stiles found his hand was moving over Derek’s chest, tracing the muscles he had helped to create. Derek’s chest was heaving and a quick look at his face showed that he was almost panting. Unable to hold onto that hot gaze, Stiles returned to watching as both of his hands moved over Derek’s chest, tangling lightly in the crisp hair on his upper chest before following the trail downwards to his stomach. Derek gave a guttural moan and Stiles realised what he was doing, snatching his hands back.

“I – “

“Stiles.” Derek’s tone was begging, the longing on his face obvious. 

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Stiles admitted. 

“I don’t think it really matters what you do as long as you touch me.” Derek’s voice was low and husky, and Stiles realised what a struggle it actually was for the other man _not_ to reach out and touch him. Making up his mind, he took Derek’s hand and led him to the bed. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going – I just want you to lie down.” Nodding, Derek lay down on the bed, staring up at Stiles with desperation in his eyes. Not sure he could believe what was happening, Stiles moved down the bed and took a hold of the waistband of Derek’s sleep-pants. “Can I take these off?” Derek nodded frantically and in other circumstances, Stiles would have smiled at how eager he was. Instead, he carefully began to tug the pants down, grateful when Derek lifted his hips to make it easier to slide them off. It was Stiles’ first completely unhindered look at Derek’s body and he gasped slightly. He really was beautiful, his body a symphony of tanned looking skin, the underlying muscles flexing beneath Stiles’ gaze as Derek struggled to stay still.

“Will you lie down with me?” Mutely, Stiles reached for his own sleep pants, slipping them off his hips and allowing them to fall to the ground. He knew his nakedness was clear to Derek in the moonlight coming through the windows but he pushed the thought away as he climbed onto the bed and straddled Derek’s hips. The heat of Derek’s erection brushing against his own made him groan even as he lay down so that they were chest to chest and he could kiss Derek softly on the lips. The kiss quickly grew heated, Derek’s hands gripping the pillow beneath his head in a death-grip as he allowed Stiles complete control. It was a heady feeling, having this powerful man fully beneath his control, and pulling away from the deep, passionate kisses, Stiles began to explore with his hands and his mouth. He nibbled at the cord of muscle that stood out starkly at Derek’s neck as he arched his head back; he firmly stroked over his chest and deliberately followed the trail of hair all the way down to where it thickened again and the hardened length of Derek’s cock thrust eagerly into his hand. 

“Jesus.” Ignoring Derek’s muttered word, Stiles explored the first cock other than his own that he had ever held, learning the length and girth of it. He sat further back so that he could play with both hands, rubbing his thumbs over the butter-soft head, smearing the leaking fluid around so that his movements were smoother. “Oh fuck – Stiles – “

“Ssh – it’s okay – “

“I don’t know if I can last,” Derek groaned. “It’s been so long!”

“It’s okay – just let go. I have you.” And he did. This was just another way of taking care of Derek, of being there for the man he loved. This was nothing at all like the other thing – this was soft and beautiful and full of love. Stiles relished the opportunity to do this for Derek, the chance to be free to watch his reactions to every single movement of Stiles’ hands. The whole time he was stroking, twisting and tugging at Derek’s hot flesh, he was watching the other man’s face, listening to his deep groans and cries, registering what he liked and what he loved. It was amazing – it was a gift, and not just for Derek. Stiles was loving being able to do this – there was no darkness, no fear, no anger – there was just this.

Derek was trying to thrust upwards beneath Stiles’ weight, his face twisted in an agony of pleasure, the muscles in his shoulders and arms corded with the effort he was expending to not reach out and grab Stiles. 

“Come for me, Derek – I want to see you come.” With a loud bellow, Derek did just as he was told – his eyes rolled back in his head, his hips thrust upwards, and his cock jumped in Stiles’ hand before he spewed out his release, great gouts of liquid splattering against Derek’s chest and oozing down Stiles’ hand.

* * *


	25. History Unveiled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles reveals his history to Derek.
> 
> * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes descriptions of child abuse. If that is a trigger for you, please don't read it. Stay safe and be kind to each other.
> 
> * * *

Despite the exhaustion weighing down his bones, Stiles lay wide awake. Derek was sleeping peacefully beside him, the dark fans of his eyelashes resting against his cheeks. His arm was wrapped around Stiles’ waist, his breath warm against his shoulder on each inhale. 

Aware that there was no chance he was going to get to sleep, Stiles carefully shifted over in the bed, freezing as Derek stirred. He gently pushed the pillow towards Derek’s reaching arms, breathing a sigh of relief when it was accepted and he could escape. Without conscious thought, he found himself out on the patio, listening to the sounds of the night. 

The evening had been a revelation – he had never expected to enjoy anything sexual and had resigned himself to that fact. Of course, he knew it wasn’t just about sex – it had everything to do with the man sleeping inside. It wasn’t as if Stiles was suddenly planning nights of mad debauchery. He felt oddly empty, his regret cancelling out the pleasure he had found in Derek’s embrace. For a short while, in his arms, he’d felt powerful and strong, completely and utterly free. But the reality was waiting for him and he knew that he wasn’t free. Derek had no idea what that night had meant to Stiles – to him, it had probably meant nothing other than the immediate satisfaction of his sex-starved body. Stiles himself didn’t mean anything – he had just been a convenience.

A sudden piercing light announced that the galley door had been opened and he heard the whirring sound of Derek’s chair as he made his way towards Stiles. There was little point in running: the conversation was long overdue and Derek was persistent enough to keep pushing. Maybe it would be something else he was freed from if he shared it?

He felt Derek’s hands reach out and touch his shoulders, shivering although he wasn’t sure whether it was from the night air or the soft touch.

“You’re freezing – you should come inside.”

“No – I’m fine out here.” He didn’t turn around, resting his forehead on the rail in front of him. 

“Come inside – we need to talk and it’s way too cold out here.”

“There’s not anything to talk about.”

“Stiles – “ Derek gave a heavy sigh. “There’s everything to talk about. Please – come inside.” Mutely, Stiles shook his head, a sad smile crossing his face when he heard Derek growl with frustration. “Fine, then I’ll stay outside with you. If I catch pneumonia and die, it’ll be on your head.”

“That is so morbid!” Even as he protested at the manipulative manner in which Derek was seeking to get his way, he turned and led the way back to his own room. He climbed into bed, vaguely aware that his sleep pants were still in Derek’s room but far too tired to go and fetch them. Derek’s chair came to a stop beside his bed and he watched as Derek pushed himself to his feet and proceeded to climb into bed alongside Stiles. “What – “

“I’m cold too.” It wasn’t a complete lie and not having the energy to argue, Stiles merely turned on his side until he and Derek were face to face under the warm covers. He didn’t protest when Derek put his arm over Stiles’ waist, taking a small measure of comfort from the touch. He knew the silence wouldn’t last and decided that he would beat Derek to the punch. “When my parents died, I went to stay with close friends of the family, the McCalls. I say, close friends – my Dad was the local sheriff and he and my Mom were friends with one of the nurses in the hospital, Melissa. Sheriff’s kid, nurse’s kid – me and Mel’s son, Scott, became best buds one way or another. 

I was so grateful for them taking me in – there were no relatives I could have gone to and I was devastated at the thought of having to leave the only home I’d known. Scott and I spent so much time together, our homes were each other’s homes. We used to joke that we were separated at birth.”

“So what happened?”

“Melissa’s husband, Rafael. He worked for the FBI – was often away on assignments so he wasn’t around much. I didn’t know that he wasn’t too happy at the idea of taking me in. I was an – _irritating_ kid, kinda hyper, always asking why. Rafael didn’t take too kindly to being questioned. 

It wasn’t too bad at first – he was away so much, it was like living in a single-parent family. But then he had to take some vacation time and he was there all the time.”

“How old were you?”

“About thirteen, fourteen. Gangly looking thing with a buzz-cut and eyes too big for my face. I was just realising that I liked boys far more than I liked girls. I guess he thought I looked at him one time too often. Or maybe he thought I was going to taint Scott.”

“That’s insane!” Stiles ignored Derek’s outburst, feeling that he needed to just get the whole story out once and for all. Then maybe Derek would let him sleep? 

“I felt like he was always watching me – standing too close whenever I came out of the bathroom, staring when we played outside – he just always seemed to be there, looking at me. Hindsight means I can understand what was happening, but at the time it just made me nervous. Rafael was a big believer in discipline – had no qualms whatsoever in slapping me or Scott if he thought we were cheeky or got out of hand. Always when Melissa wasn’t around, of course. Then one day, I’d left my half of the room in a mess, as usual – too many toys lying around I suppose. He said if I was going to behave like a kid, I should be disciplined like one – ordered me to drop my trousers and get over his lap.” Stiles flinched as he felt Derek’s muscles tensed, then relaxed, realising the other man wasn’t angry with him. “I refused – said there was not a chance in hell I was giving him a chance to perve on me, like I even knew what that meant. And he started screaming at me – going on about how I’d been giving him come-hither looks, staring at him like he was a prime steak and I wanted a bite. I – I don’t think I did that. I think it was just normal curiosity – he was the man around the house, you know? But it threw me, made me doubt myself. The next thing I knew, he’d thrown me onto the bed and was trying to pull my trousers off. I was screaming blue murder, but Scotty wasn’t there and Melissa was meant to be at work.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Melissa came home early – she had a migraine – and walked in on what was happening. He didn’t – he didn’t manage to rape me. But he’d bitten me – all over my neck and back – kept going on about marking me so I wouldn’t forget. I don’t know how thought the marks wouldn’t be seen? Or maybe he wasn’t thinking. Anyway, Melissa dragged him off of me and told him to get out.”

“What happened then?”

“He said it was all me – that I’d been leading him on whenever she wasn’t around, that I kept making passes at him and he’d finally snapped.”

“Fuck.”

“She didn’t believe him – when I say I was an awkward, gangly kid, believe me, I was. My main interest was online role-playing games – the vague thought that I might like boys was just developing, and there is no way – “

“I believe you, Stiles – you don’t have to try and convince me.” Something hard within Stiles softened at hearing that. 

“She punched him – broke three of her fingers actually. Then she pushed him down the stairs and out of the house.”

“Did you stay?” 

“No. Rafael kicked up a fuss – made a few accusations in front of the wrong people, and there was an investigation. Social services got involved and I got hauled off to a group foster home – for my own good.” Derek wiped a hand over Stiles’ cheek and he was surprised to see that he was wiping away a tear and that Stiles had been crying. He hadn’t realised it. “Melissa got divorced, Rafael got kicked out of the FBI, and Scott wrote to me at the home, telling me he’d never forgive me for costing him his family, that just because I lost mine didn’t mean I had the right to take his away.”

“The little bastard! How – “

“To be fair, I know he didn’t mean it – he was just hurting and I was a convenient person to blame. But I just – I kinda folded in on myself. I didn’t want to go to a foster home so I just stayed in the group facility. I didn’t want or need another family – I didn’t want to get involved, I didn’t want to care, and I certainly didn’t want anything sexual. I sold my family home when I was old enough to take legal ownership and that’s how I paid for my training. I had therapy – Deaton makes all of his people have therapy so they know themselves better. I know the scars that are there, I know what happened wasn’t my fault. So, there you have the whole sordid tale.”

“Stiles – you are such an incredibly strong person to have survived something like that.” Stiles was surprised – that wasn’t the response he had been expecting. 

“There are people out there who have been through far worse.”

“Don’t belittle what you went through – please.” Stiles sighed, feeling completely done in. He struggled to keep his eyes open, the soothing motions of Derek’s hand down the length of his side making it harder to do so. Derek’s voice was soft when he spoke, almost as though he was talking to himself and not to Stiles. “So you keep yourself all alone, don’t let anyone in because it’s safer.”

“I haven’t been unhappy,” he muttered, snuggling closer to Derek’s warmth.

“But you haven’t been happy either – that needs to change.” Before he could reply, Stiles fell asleep.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glorious warmth! New boiler was fitted today. I had the world's longest shower and have been able to strip back the layers and not freeze - it is amazing! I am sleepy but I wanted to get this chapter out because it was in my head and bothering me. It's Stiles' back story and I think most of you will have kinda guessed some of it.
> 
> * * *


	26. The Day After

When Stiles woke up, he was alone in his bed and the brightness of the room told him that the morning was pretty much over. He wasn’t fortunate enough to have forgotten the events of the night before, falling onto his back and covering his eyes with his forearm. He could understand just how Derek had managed to leave the bed and return to his room using the wheelchair without waking him – he felt exhausted even now, his body feeling heavy, his brain foggy. 

Knowing that he had to face reality sometime, he forced himself to get up. Even a quick, cold shower wasn’t enough to make him feel more alert. He dressed and headed straight for the gym, knowing that was where he would find Derek. He was almost too embarrassed to face him: after everything he had revealed about himself last night, he felt raw and vulnerable. 

Derek was lying down on the weight bench, lifting weights with his legs and counting. He glanced at Stiles but said nothing. 

“How long have you been doing that?” Stiles checked the weights Derek was using, frowning. 

“Half – an – hour,” Derek grunted in reply. 

“That’s enough – you need to stop right now.” He stepped back, scowling. “It’s no wonder your legs are giving you fits – you’re overdoing it and you run the risk of injuring yourself if you continue.”

“I don’t like having to rely on the walker!” Derek protested. 

“If you tear a muscle, you’re going to have to rely on the walker for a lot longer! Look, I’m supposed to be your therapist and I don’t view that as a spectator sport! You don’t listen to me. Ignore the instructions and advice I give you – I might as well not be here for all of the notice you pay me!” Derek looked a little surprised at Stiles’ outburst, and for a moment Stiles thought he was going to turn around and tell him to pack his bags. 

“Okay, okay – don’t get your boxers in a knot! You’re the boss.” Hiding his relief, Stiles changed the weights Derek was working with and nodded for him to continue. He was so determined to keep things professional between them that he refused to join in on any good-natured banter. By the end of the session, Derek’s brows were furrowed in a permanent scowl, and Stiles felt physically sick. He made his way to the dining room, finding each step was a huge effort. He barely noticed Derek walking past him and heading towards the kitchen as he gratefully sank into one of the chairs. 

Moments later, Lydia came storming into the room, plonking a bowl of soup down in front of him.

“Eat that, immediately. Idiotic boy,” she scowled at him before heading back into the kitchen. Realising that he hadn’t eaten all day, Stiles slowly began to eat the soup, feeling better with each mouthful. By the time he’d finished eating, Derek had come back in and sat next to him, eating his lunch in silence. Realising that Derek had gone through and asked Lydia to prepare something simple and quick, Stiles felt a flush of embarrassment.

“I’ve been a complete dick to you today – I’m sorry.” Derek just nodded and continued eating.

* * *

The rest of the day passed without incident. Stiles was able to let down his guard a little, smiling at some of the things Derek said, but he couldn’t relax enough to respond in kind and it was a very muted day. Lying in bed, he wondered how he was going to keep going until Derek’s therapy was over – today had been so difficult, and his emotions felt mangled. A cry from the other room caught his attention, but for the first time in his professional career, he hesitated. It was almost a direct repeat of last night – should he risk going in there? Derek gave another cry and unable to ignore that sound, Stiles got out of bed and went through to Derek’s bedroom. 

Derek was sat up in bed, pillows plumped up behind him, and he looked absolutely fine. 

“Dick-move,” Stiles said as he stood in the doorway.

“We need to talk.”

“God, if you’re so into talking maybe you should join a debate club or something!”

“What the fuck, Stiles? We made love last night and today you’re treating me like I was the one who – “

“Don’t you say it!” Suddenly, Stiles was enraged. “What happened last night won’t happen again. Consider a freebie – call it a full service or whatever!”

“STILES!” Derek’s face was thunderous. “Are you saying that last night was just a therapeutic roll in the hay?”

“Bingo!” Stiles stalked back to his room, climbing back into bed even though he knew he wasn’t going to get to sleep. He couldn’t stay any longer, that was obvious. The atmosphere between them, all of the tension – it wasn’t good for either of them. Fortunately, Deaton was fully aware of the situation – Stiles had called him and explained that he was – _compromised_ – and no payments had been taken from the Hales since then. He hadn’t – theoretically – done anything against any ethical code. Stiles would have to handle how he felt about the reality in his own time. Thank God Laura had agreed not to say anything, although he knew that it had simply confirmed for her that Stiles felt something for Derek. 

His bedroom door opened and he turned to see Derek in his doorway. He was nude, his strong, beautiful body on full display and even in his despair, Stiles couldn’t help but admire him. 

“If you want to run, I can’t catch you. And we both know you could kick my ass if you wanted to.” Derek’s voice was soft. When Stiles didn’t say anything, Derek made his way to the bed and climbed in, turning on his side to face Stiles. Stiles made one last attempt to protect himself, his voice cracking as he spoke.

“This can’t work.”

“It already has – you just don’t want to admit it.” Derek leaned forward and carefully kissed Stiles on the forehead. “We can work.” Accepting defeat, Stiles leaned forward and kissed Derek’s mouth, dipping into it with his tongue as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Derek responded immediately, tilting his head to the side for a better angle so that they could feed on each other’s mouths. 

Carefully, Derek pushed Stiles over onto his back, sliding over so that he was lying on top of him.

“Is this okay?” Stiles nodded, touched by how carefully Derek was treating him. But he didn’t want him to be careful, didn’t want gentle – the storm of emotions inside him demanded something more. He grabbed Derek’s head and pulled him back down, devouring his mouth. Derek seemed to read what Stiles was after, kissing him back ferociously even as he began to slide his hands possessively down Stiles’ body. Stiles spread his legs, folding one on top of Derek’s body and groaning as their groins came into more intimate contact. 

“I want – “

“Anything – Stiles, you can have anything!” 

“Just – closer – more!” He couldn’t articulate what he was after, drowning in a sea of sensation that didn’t allow for coherent thought. He gasped as he felt Derek’s hand on his cock, squeezing and stroking in a way that made his breath catch and everything in his body clench. Derek mouthed down his neck, kissing and nibbling at his throat and chest whilst his hand worked its magic on Stiles’ cock, instigating a rhythm that made Stiles’ thrust his hips, pushing for more friction, more touch, more Derek. He felt like he was on fire, unable to coordinate his hands as they gripped Derek’s hair, then tried to touch his body. He watched, stunned as Derek slid down the bed until he was level with Stiles’ cock, rubbing his face in the curls around the base while he stroked. “Please – please – “ 

Stiles didn’t know what he was begging for but Derek seemed to know, teasing him with kitten licks to the tip of his dick, gently jostling his balls, always watching Stiles for his reactions. 

“You’ll stay?” 

“What?” 

“You’ll stay? No more threats about leaving?”

“Derek – this isn’t fair!”

“I don’t care.” Derek squeezed a little harder and Stiles felt his eyes almost cross at the intense sensation. He was so close. “Say you’ll stay and I’ll make you feel so good, Stiles.” Those pale eyes were alight with determination and passion, hands possessive as they teased and taunted Stiles. 

“Yes – yes I’ll stay!” His vision whited out as Derek lowered his head, taking his cock in all the way to the back of his throat and sucking hard. His hips pumped up as he felt like his soul left his body, the orgasm sweeping him away until all he was aware of was Derek. Everything else meant nothing.

* * *


	27. Compromise

Early in the morning, Stiles found himself being kissed awake. He couldn’t hold back a smile, enjoying the feel of Derek lying against him.

“I would **love** to spend all day in bed with you, but Lydia will be up soon if we don’t put in an appearance.” Derek kissed him again, his actions belying his words. “She was worried about you yesterday – almost as much as I was.”

“You kinda had an idea what was wrong with me yesterday,” muttered against his lips, tugging gently on the thick dark hair. 

“I was worried about you because I hadn’t meant to upset you and sharing like that – I knew it upset you.” Derek shifted down the bed, fingers pinching Stiles’ nipple lightly.

“Well, if you keep doing that, we aren’t going anywhere, so I suggest you cease and desist.”

“Shower with me?” Another completely new experience for Stiles – he’d never showered with someone before. He found it an altogether satisfying experience, and not all of that was down to the way Derek seemed to want to map every part of his body before they rutted against each other and made a huge mess. It was in the soft touches that cleaned him, the closeness of being held under the spray whilst Derek washed his hair, allowing himself to be looked after for once as Derek dried him off with the soft, fluffiest towel he could find. He got dressed under Derek’s supervision, blushing at the tight exercise pants he chose for him to wore, laughing at the superhero tee-shirt that was one of his oldest and most-loved. One of the best moments of the morning was watching as Derek walked back to his room to get dressed, his back straight, his gait steady.

* * *

“It’s a beautiful day,” Erica exclaimed as she placed his breakfast in front of him, and Stiles threw her a suspicious look. She raised an eyebrow at him in query before giving an impish grin and heading back to the kitchen. Lydia stuck her head around the door, gave him an assessing look before leaving again without saying a word. 

Their workouts that day were leisurely and short; Derek seemed much more interested in watching Stiles as he worked out, admiring his muscles and physique instead of paying attention to what he was doing. He seemed very relaxed, satisfaction in every line of his body. Stiles found himself in the unusual position of having to chivvy him along rather than try to hold him back. 

“You keep this up and I’m going to have to lessen the amount you’re eating.”

“Whatever you say,” Derek replied, quite obviously not paying any attention to what Stiles was saying. Stiles couldn’t bring himself to mind – it was nice to have someone looking at him the way Derek was; it felt intimate but not creepy. In an attempt to get him to do some type of workout though, Stiles insisted on Derek taking him for a walk around the grounds. It was a beautiful estate, the landscaping making the most of the environment and a testament to Boyd’s hard work. On the way back to the house, Derek mentioned casually “I’ve been thinking – there’s no use waiting for the New Year before going back to work. I’m going back on Monday, get myself back up to speed before Chris takes off.”

Stiles came to a halt, feeling the blood draining from his face. 

“Don’t worry – I’m just thinking of doing half-days; they’ll be plenty of time for you to continue to torture me in that gym of yours!”

Stiles bit his lip, stepping back slightly. 

“If you’re well enough to go back to work, you don’t need me around – there’s no need for me to stay at all.”

Derek frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous – there’s _every_ need for you to stay here! We’ve been over this and it’s settled.”

“You don’t understand. I have to work – I have to support myself – “

“Stiles, I can – “

“If you were planning on finishing that sentence by saying you’ll support me, I’ll push you over, so help me God!”

“I didn’t mean that the way you’ve taken it – “

“I’m not some kind of lap-dog! My job is important to me – I _help_ people!”

“I know that – of all people, I know that! I just – maybe you could look at local jobs where you don’t have to live in – “

“Derek – “

“Were you really going to go live elsewhere when we’re married?” Stiles’ mouth fell open, shock all over his face. 

“Married?!”

“Well, yeah. I mean – that’s not the romantic marriage proposal I had planned but I thought you realised that was the natural progression for us.” 

“You can’t mean that!”

“Not the reception I was hoping for from the first and only marriage proposal I ever plan to make!”

Stiles couldn’t hold back a laugh at Derek’s anger over his response. Derek was obviously still in the intense, isolated therapist-patient mindset but now with the added complication of their physical relationship, but Stiles had never expected that he would take it as far as marriage. 

“Derek – “

“If you try to tell me I don’t know my own mind, I’ll – actually, I don’t know what I’ll do! Why is it so hard to believe that I love you? Yeah, there, I said it! And you love me so don’t try to deny it!”

“Derek, I never expected – look, I’ll leave today. I’m so sorry.” Without giving Derek a chance to say anything further and ignoring the sound of his name being called, Stiles headed back towards the house. He made sure to stop off and ask Boyd to keep an eye out for Derek although he was pretty sure Derek would be safe making his way back.

He ran up the stairs to his room, dragging out his case and beginning to pack efficiently. He refused to allow himself to think about the situation at all, just kept folding up items and putting them away. He was going to have to leave most of his new clothes behind, but it wasn’t as though he would be wearing them for anyone else. Derek could dispose of them however he chose. 

“You’re not leaving.” Stiles looked up, relieved to see that Derek had made it back safely while still wishing that he hadn’t been quite so quick. “Put everything back and calm down.”

“There’s no reason for me to stay – surely you can see that, Derek?”

“I’m not a good enough reason to stay – **we’re** not a good enough reason for you to stay?” 

“There is no us – not really. You’re just confused – we’ve been so close for so long, it’s all mixed up with gratitude of my help – “

“I’m not confused – Stiles **I LOVE YOU**! Which part of that do you not understand?”

“You don’t love me!” Stiles shouted, unable to bear hearing those words coming from Derek when he knew that they weren’t true. “You only think you love me. It happens sometimes – I’m the only toy in the toy-box so it’s natural for you to mistake want for need, familiarity with love. Once you’re back in the real world, around other people again, you’ll realise that you don’t love me at all. It would be hell for both of us if I married you and then you realised the truth of what I’m saying. Honestly, Derek, I’m doing us both a favour by leaving.”

“You’re just not willing to listen to reason! Okay, how about a compromise – can we agree on a compromise?” Derek strode back and forth across the room, frustration in every line of his body.

“What sort of compromise?”

“You think once I’m out in the real world again, I’ll realise that what I feel for you right now is just infatuation, not love, right?” Stiles nodded. “So, easy. You stay until I’ve had a chance to make that comparison. I go back to work, get back to seeing other people out and about – then I can be trusted to know my own mind?”

“Don’t put it like that – I don’t mean to be insulting – “

“But that’s what you think, so this is a fair test isn’t it?”

“Oh, and I wonder what’s in it for you – maybe, that you get to keep sleeping with me?”

“Hey – same thing that’s in it for you!” Despite every instinct telling him not to take the chance, Stiles found himself nodding, gasping when Derek swept his suitcase off the bed and pushed Stiles backwards onto it.

* * *


	28. Christmas

It was heady to be with Derek openly. Not that they’d ever hidden their connection, but knowing that it was all out in the open was a strangely freeing experience.

Derek bought a slim black cane that was meant to be unobtrusive but instead looked like a very sexy prop. Bright and early Monday morning, he set off for work, Boyd resuming his driving duties. Stiles did his best not to worry when he was gone, but his mind kept providing images of him falling and hurting himself, or pushing himself too far and becoming overtired. However, after a week Stiles forced himself to accept that going back to work had been completely the right move. Every day, Derek improved, walking faster with less effort but more purpose. He was in excellent physical shape, in no small way due to Stiles, and now it was as if you could see his mind snapping back online.

The other thing that Stiles struggled with was the idea of all of the people – attractive and otherwise – that Derek was now coming into contact with. He looked devastatingly attractive in his suit, the cane adding an air of mystery. Stiles was almost constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop – for Derek to come home and say, “You were right, it was all infatuation, proximity and gratitude – pack your shit and hit the road!”

But it didn’t happen – not yet anyway. Derek came home eager to talk to Stiles about work and projects as they spent time in the gym or swimming if the day was warm enough. Derek was talking about getting a heating unit installed so they could swim at night if they wanted to – Stiles didn’t care about that. He was relishing spending the nights in Derek’s arms. 

Sex was the other area Stiles was becoming concerned about. So far, they hadn’t had penetrative sex – it seemed to be a block that he couldn’t quite conquer. He knew that some men never had that kind of sex, that it didn’t make their relationship any less valid or satisfying, but in the back of his mind, he worried that Derek would feel like he was missing out. He gave no such indications, seeming more than happy with how things were, but Stiles chafed under the idea that something was missing and it was his fault. 

Derek discovered that Stiles had never gone Christmas present shopping – there had been no one close enough to shop for, or even receive a gift from. The whole house entered into the idea that they were going to show Stiles what Christmas with family could be like. Family traditions from Lydia, Boyd and Erica were incorporated into how Derek, Laura and Chris normally celebrated, everyone eager to share the spirit of Christmas. 

Stiles had been semi-fearful that Derek would try to shower him with expensive gifts, so was both delighted and relieved to find they were smaller, more thoughtful. A Nintendo Switch and a game called Animal Crossing because he remembered Stiles saying he used to love gaming; a book on the latest in physiotherapy techniques; tickets to a symposium that he had wanted to attend but missed out on – all things that said how much Derek knew about who Stiles was. The biggest present was the schematics to the pulley system he and Boyd had created for Derek to use – the patent was in Stiles name, with an option to produce them using Hale Enterprises. 

Stiles burst into tears when he saw the last present, aware of how many of his previous patients could have benefited from the system, and now how many in the future could do so. It was then he realised everyone was watching him open his gifts.

“Why is everyone watching me?”

“It’s just really good to see you happy,” Derek replied and Stiles impulsively gave him a huge hug and then insisted on everyone opening their own gifts. It was a fabulous, complete with buttered rum that went straight to Stiles’ head and led to Derek having to help him up the stairs instead of the other way around. He was laughing softly and Stiles leaned into him, enjoying the solid warmth of his body as he supported Stiles. 

“What’s so funny?”

“You are. You’re half drunk and half asleep and you’re seldom this cuddly. It’s adorable.”

“Ugh, adorable is not a word a grown man wants to be associated with!”

“Well, you’re as adorable as a cuddly little kitten at the moment and I fully intend to remind you of this when you’re back to being bossy therapist Stiles!” Derek helped him get ready for bed, then climbed in next to him, pulling him close. “Hey Stiles, are you awake?”

“Hmm?”

“You awake?”

“Kinda.” Stiles knew he was almost fully asleep, the rum, the food, the excitement of the day combining to make him feel replete. 

“What’s your given name? No one has Stiles on their birth certificate.”

“Hmm?”

“Sneak attack and I don’t care – what’s your name?”

“You could have just checked out my driving licence if you really wanted to know.”

“Yeah, but that’s a different type of cheating. Come on – you can tell me.”

“Mieczyslaw – I was named for my maternal grandfather. I couldn’t pronounce it when I was younger and my parents called me Mischief. I chose Stiles as a nickname and it was just easier for everyone to call me by that. After my parents died, no one else called me Mieczyslaw.” 

“Thank you for sharing that with me. You’ll have to use it when we get married though.” Stiles struggled to stay awake at that, realising that Derek was most definitely taking advantage. 

“Married?”

“Uh-huh. You agreed – remember? Once I’d been back into the real world and could prove that it was you and not other people, we were gonna get married.” Derek’s arm around his waist tightened and Stiles realised he was scared that Stiles would pull away. But for the first time in his life, Stiles found himself thinking that he wasn’t going to pull away from something good just in case – maybe it was time he learned to lean?

“Then you better make it a small ceremony – you’re the only person I’m gonna tell my real name too. Erica would have a field day.” Derek breathed an audible sigh of relief and just as he drifted off, Stiles smiled – it was nice to be so loved.

* * *

For three whole days, nothing intruded on the spell of happiness that held them in its bubble. Everyone was extremely pleased with their news and more champagne was brought out. Boyd made a point of coming over to Stiles and clinking his glass, giving one of his rare smiles and saying ‘thank you’ in his soft, quiet voice. Lydia acted as if she’d arranged it all personally, grinning at Stiles and going so far as to relax enough to hug him. Laura passed on Chris’s best wishes and hugged her brother so hard they all heard his spine give a cracking noise, something that made them all laugh. It seemed that a wedding was exactly what everyone wanted and needed to end the year on a positive note. It was wonderful. 

Laura arrived for dinner on the fourth day, alone and pale, although she seemed composed. She didn’t seem to have much of an appetite and wasn’t talkative over dinner, which was notable because for days Stiles and Derek had been receiving emails, texts and phone calls with suggestions for things they could incorporate into their wedding. 

“I wanted to be the one to tell you before someone else does,” she said quietly. “Chris and I are separated.”

* * *


	29. A Long Time Coming

Stiles was shocked at Laura’s statement, but more so by Derek’s reaction. He thought he had got to know Derek very well in their time together, but he had never seen Derek emanate such menace as he did now, his protective instincts fully to the fore.

“What do you want me to do?”

Laura gave a sad little laugh, coming around the table and giving her brother a hug. 

“Nothing, darling. This is a battle I need to fight for myself.” She gave her brother a kiss on the cheek before returning to her seat. “And don’t you dare let this affect your working relationship – this is between Chris and I, no one else. I’ve not been the best wife over the last couple of years and I need to show Chris that I love him enough to fight for him. Okay?” 

Derek nodded reluctantly as Stiles and Laura shared a glance. Laura seemed determined to stand on her own two feet and not expect Derek to step in and it was admirable to see that even now she was sticking to that. The rest of the meal passed quietly but without further drama. 

It was as they were getting ready for bed that Derek turned to Stiles and asked, “So, what’s with all the significant looks between you and Laura tonight?” 

Stiles paused in the act of pulling off his shirt, looking over at Derek. 

“Significant looks?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, Stiles.” Derek was sat on the bed, removing his watch, watching Stiles with a piercing gaze. “Was she warning you away from Chris?”

“WHAT?!” Stunned, Stiles yanked the shirt back on, feeling like he needed to be dressed to handle this conversation. “I _literally_ agreed to marry you three days ago – what the hell makes you think I’m the type of person to do that whilst being involved with someone else? Someone else who happens to be married? Do you even know me at all?”

“Stiles – “

“Why am I always the cause of any trouble between Laura and Chris? They were having issues **way** before I got here!”

“Because Chris can’t keep his eyes off you whenever he’s here – at Christmas he looked spellbound!”

“I’m not responsible for Chris’s eyes!”

“Aren’t you? Whenever you look at him, it’s as if you’re passing secret messages!” 

“Jesus Christ, you just accused me of doing the same with Laura – am I having an affair with her too?”

“If you don’t have anything to hide, why won’t you tell me what’s going on with you and Laura?”

“Ask your damned sister if you want to know so much!” Derek got to his feet, walking towards Stiles and he didn’t even think, his body tensed for attack. He turned to head for the door, intent on escape, but Derek’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. Without thinking, he moved into a defensive position to enable him to flip Derek to the floor, freezing in horror as he realised what he’d been about to do. He staggered backwards, his back thudding against the door as he stared with wide eyes at Derek.

“Stiles – “

“I – I could have really hurt you!”

“It was my fault – I was being aggressive and – “

“You’ve just recovered from – I could have _really_ hurt you – “ Derek stepped forward, his hands raised so that Stiles could see them. Carefully, he pulled Stiles into his embrace.

“It’s okay, Stiles – I swear, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have questioned you like that – I was just frustrated with the situation and I’ve always been jealous of you and Chris’s relationship. You didn’t hurt me – you stopped yourself.” 

In a state of shock, Stiles allowed Derek to guide him to the bed, stripping him down and putting him between the sheets. He could barely believe what had happened. Derek had no right to accuse him of having an affair, but Stiles had been prepared to physically attack him. What did that say about him? Would the nightmare of his past with Rafael never leave him? Derek climbed into the bed behind him, pulling him close and holding him tight.

“I love you, Stiles.”

“I love you too but that doesn’t mean I’m right for you. Maybe – maybe it would be better if I left?”

“No. We can work through this together. I need to learn to hold my temper – “

“What, spend the rest of your life never being upset about anything in case I decide to attack you? That is no kind of life, Derek.”

“Please, Stiles, don’t – don’t over-react, okay? We’ll figure a way through this. We will.” Stiles wasn’t sure but exhaustion was pulling at him and he allowed the warmth of Derek’s body to seep into his chilled flesh, sending him off to sleep.

* * *

Derek was careful to keep conversation light in the next few days, avoiding the subject of Laura and acting as though their fight hadn’t happened. Stiles found he couldn’t do that – he could see that it wasn’t a healthy state of affairs but he wasn’t sure what he could do about it. 

One day during the week, he met Laura for lunch, wanting to see how she was doing.

“It’s actually going okay. We’re talking more than we did when we were together – Chris wanted some time to himself and he’s getting it without me nagging at him. He loves to ski and I hate the cold, so he’s gone to Aspen. I don’t know how much skiing he’s getting done as he always seems to be on the phone to me!” She laughed, looking more relaxed than Stiles had ever seen her. 

“You are really handling this well – I’m surprised.”

“Let’s be honest – the woman you met when you first got here would have crumpled into a heap and expected Derek to fix it. I’m actually enjoying figuring out who I am outside of being Derek Hale’s sister and Chris Argent’s wife.” Laura looked – well. “I want Chris back and I’m going to fight for him, but I also know that if it doesn’t work out that I’ll be okay. Derek might have been there for me when we lost our family, but I was there for him too. I forgot that fact in all of this time, and all of this has forced me to look at a lot of things. I’ve been given the name of a therapist and I really feel that it will help.”

“Jesus, Laura, that’s brilliant! You should be proud of yourself – I think that maybe I need to take a good hard look at myself.”

“Trouble in paradise?” When she saw his serious face, she stopped smiling. “Stiles – I know Derek is my brother, but if you ever need someone to talk to, you know I consider you a friend, right?”

“I do – and thank you. But I think this is something I need to do myself.” Laura nodded but she looked concerned and Stiles couldn’t do anything to reassure her. He got the feeling no one was going to like how he handled this situation.

* * *


	30. The End?

When Stiles got home, he contacted Deaton and made plans for his next case, got the details of a therapist near to his new patient, then booked a flight to Phoenix. His next patient was currently hospitalised but in a week he would be ready to commence therapy. That gave Stiles a week to work up the nerve to tell Derek what he was doing. 

Over the next week, Stiles felt himself pull further and further away from Derek, distancing himself as though it would protect him from the pain that he knew was coming. Derek seemed to sense what was happening, holding Stiles close while they slept, their lovemaking becoming more passionate and desperate. 

He learned that Chris was back in town when he received a phone call from him, asking if he could come and speak to Stiles that evening. He hesitated, not sure what Chris could have to say to him and Chris said wryly, “Laura knows I’m coming to see you – in fact, she suggested it.”

Chris looked good. He had a healthy tan that brought out the blue of his eyes, and lines of strain had been erased by sleep and relaxation. He was still the strong, determined man that had searched Stiles out and convinced him to come to Beacon Hills, but he seemed happier almost. 

“You’re looking as delicious as ever.” He hugged Stiles and bussed him on the cheek, and Stiles pulled back feeling more confused than ever. He had never seen Chris light-hearted before.

“You’re looking pretty good yourself. I take it you’ve seen Laura?”

“I have indeed. We had dinner together last night – and breakfast this morning.” Stiles burst out laughing at the smug look at Chris’s face. 

“Okay! Then – why are you here?”

“Because my wife is a wily, evil woman – she sent me to you.”

“Why?”

“Because she figured out that I’m attracted to you and our marriage can’t work if you’re between us. Just as it can’t work if Derek is between us.”

“But – we haven’t – Laura has never – “

“Oh, she knows! Believe me, she knows. She totally understands that its a purely one-sided crush brought about by circumstances. Laura has always needed me and when the accident happened I found that the strain of being her perfect knight in shining armour as well as everything else was too much. You – you were strong, confident and seemed to need no one – it was very attractive.”

Stiles smiled, although inside he found himself wondering if that was really how Chris had seen him. If so, it was only in his professional life – when it came to his personal life, he was as confused as the next person, if not more so. 

“I’ve returned to a Laura that I always knew was in there and it’s made me fall more in love with my wife than ever before. I think she just wanted me to say goodbye to the fantasy of you before I came home for good.”

“She really is a smart lady.”

“That she is. Thank you, Stiles – you not only gave us back Derek but you made Laura and I see how much we mean to each other, fight for each other. I’ll always be grateful.” They hugged once more and Stiles saw Chris out, waving at his car. He made his way back to the patio, sitting down and staring unseeing at the pool.

“How long was he here?”

“Jesus, Derek, you almost gave me a heart attack!” Stiles jumped in his seat, hand to his chest. “You’re home early.”

“Sorry to interrupt.” Stiles couldn’t tell if Derek was being sarcastic or not, but he could feel himself tensing.

“He wasn’t here for longer than five minutes – you can ask Lydia or Erica if you don’t believe me. And Laura was the one who sent him – they’ve patched things up and he wanted to talk to me.”

Derek nodded, taking a seat near to Stiles but not next to him. Stiles got the feeling he knew what was coming. 

“Now is a good time to tell you, actually. I’ve accepted another case in Phoenix and I’ll be leaving in a couple of days.”

“Were you going to tell me? Originally I mean – were you going to tell me before you left?”

“Yeah. I just – I wanted to enjoy a little time with you before I did so.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Because Laura made me realise something – something really important. I can’t be what you want or need me to be while I’m like this. I need to sort out a few more issues before I’ll be good enough to be with someone.”

“And we can’t do it together?” Stiles shook his head sadly, refusing to look at Derek because he knew if he did, he would break down and cry. 

“No – I think this is something I need to do alone.”

“For the record, Stiles – you have always been good enough for me.” Derek got to his feet and walked away and Stiles finally broke down in tears, feeling like he was watching everything good in his life get further and further away.

* * *

Derek didn’t come to bed that night and Stiles didn’t sleep. He got up early and finished packing – he’d already disposed of the items he wasn’t going to take with him so he had more than enough luggage space. He dragged it all downstairs using the lift, ignoring the judging look Boyd gave him as he walked across the foyer. He hadn’t planned on having anything to eat – his stomach felt tied in knots and he wasn’t sure he would have been capable of keeping anything down – but it seemed rude not to say goodbye to Lydia and Erica. 

His entry to the kitchen was greeted by dead silence, both women staring at him. 

“I just – I wanted to say thank you, for everything, and goodbye.”

“You’re really doing this?” Lydia folded her arms across her chest.

“I – “

“Let him go. If he doesn’t want to be here – he’s done his job, right?” Erica seemed a little bitter.

“I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you guys. You’ve been amazing to me since I was here and I’ve never felt such a feeling of family. I – bye.” Erica nodded before stalking out of the room, but Lydia walked up to him, giving him an assessing look.

“When you figure out where you belong, we’ll still be here.” She pulled him into a hug, then turned and walked back to the range cooker, effectively dismissing him. Unable to figure out how to take her last statement, Stiles walked back out of the kitchen towards the front door. He took one last look around the foyer, remembering his arrival and how stunned he had been at the beauty of it all. He would so miss being here. The tooting of a car horn let him know his Uber was outside, and gathering his luggage, he walked out of the front door and closed it behind him with a finality that brought a tear to his eye that he refused to let fall.

* * *


	31. Put Me Together Again

It didn’t get any better. He had thought it would get easier, even if the wound never quite healed, but the hurting never peaked, never declined – his heart felt like it was exposed to everything and it hurt. 

His new client was an absolute cherub called Isaac – his parents couldn’t do enough to help him with Isaac and the prognosis was excellent. Isaac’s open-hearted affection for Stiles was a balm to his aching heart, but his hugs made Stiles long for Derek’s arms around him. When he received a large cheque in the post, signed in Derek’s strong, angular scrawl, he almost wept. It was more than the agreed-upon amount, and it would seem that Derek was less than pleased to find that Stiles had stopped charging him for months – from the time they got involved in fact. He didn’t bank it – keeping it in his wallet as the only thing of Derek’s he had. 

His bi-weekly therapy sessions helped a little. It hurt going over everything in his past, but it also helped him see the blocks he still had in place, the issues he knew he needed to deal with. Some nights he stayed awake all night, picking his relationship with Derek apart, trying to see clearly what he had been unable to see whilst living through it. Again, therapeutic but painful. Sometimes he would have killed for the chance to talk to someone who wasn’t a professional – get advice that was more emotionally based, but he had been determined to do this alone so didn’t exactly have the right to call anyone. Besides, who would he call? Laura was too close to Derek despite being his friend. Chris – his relationship with Laura was just getting back onto an even keel and Stiles would feel wrong getting in the way. He considered talking to Lydia but decided he was a little too delicate for her blunt, straight-forward ways as of yet, and he knew he had upset Erica too much. So he tried to battle on alone.

He had been there a month when Isaac’s mother, Penny, called him to the landline. Giving Isaac his colouring book and crayons to keep him occupied (his time on the iPad was a reward for when the day of therapy was over), he went to the living room and picked up the receiver.

“Hello.” He spoke hesitantly, completely confused as to who could be calling him.

“I’m not planning on biting you – well, at least not from this distance.” Derek’s soft, rich voice reached through the phone and caressed his ears and Stiles almost broke down. 

“Derek!”

“You’ve been there a month – has your patient fallen in love with you yet?” Stiles closed his eyes, fighting back tears. 

“Yes – he’s madly in love with me.”

“So, what does my competition look like?” Competition?

“He’s a gorgeous blond with bright blue eyes and a ridiculous pout that he uses when I beat his score on Disney Emoji Bliss.”

“Whoa, he sounds like he’s real competition! How tall is this gorgeous blond?”

“I have no idea – how tall is the average five-year-old?” He didn’t imagine the sound of relief that Derek made. 

“Well, I guess he can have you for a few more months.” Stiles almost dropped the phone in his confusion. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah – I just – “

“Did I tell you Laura and I are going to family therapy? Chris comes too but we’re mainly dealing with the stuff from when our family died first.”

“Derek – “

“Did you find a good therapist up there?”

“Derek – I don’t understand – “

“Damn, is that the time? I’ll speak to you again soon – dream of me. Love you!” Before he could speak again, the line had gone dead and he was left holding the receiver. He didn’t understand what Derek was doing calling him – didn’t he remember their last conversation? Was something wrong?

* * *

A storm knocked out their communications for a week, which meant he was saved from jumping every time the phone called but he was no less confused. His therapist merely smiled at him when he explained about the phone call and Stiles was getting just a little pissed off at what seemed to be a secret that everyone else but him understood.

He was outside playing with Isaac when Penny called him in to say the phone lines were back and there was a call for him. He waited for Penny to come and take control of Isaac’s little wheelchair before bounding into the house, grabbing the receiver with eager hands.

“Hello – wow, that felt like a long week.”

“Hi – Derek – “

“I had to tell you the excellent news – Laura’s pregnant! She didn’t waste any time once Chris came back! She took one of those early tests and is practically bursting with excitement. We fought over who got to tell you and I won!”

“That’s amazing! Please tell her congratulations from me – her and Chris. Are you looking forward to being an uncle?”

“Hell yeah! I intend to spoil the little rug-rat something rotten! Of course, I’m looking forward to being a father more.”

“A father – Derek – “

“I know we never spoke about it but I thought we could foster first? And then maybe consider adopting? It would feel good to pay back to the system that was there for you when you needed them.”

“But we’re not getting married!” Stiles almost roared, turning around quickly to be sure Penny and Isaac weren’t within earshot.

“Yes we are – you agreed. And I don’t recall you ever saying you wouldn’t marry me – or that you didn’t love me.” There was a long silence as Stiles tried to force himself to say the words and Derek seemed to be holding his breath. “Because I love you and only you, and it doesn’t matter whether you’re a work in progress. We all are, Stiles. And sometimes, if you’re really lucky, you find someone who wants to work on themselves the same way and you can do it together.” Still unable to speak, Stiles once more found himself listening to the dialling tone. 

Penny popped her head around the door. 

“Everything okay?” Stiles turned to her, still feeling a little stunned. 

“I don’t know.”

“Want a cup of coffee? Isaac has gone for a nap.” Following Penny into the kitchen, Stiles sat at the table and tried to marshal his thought. “So – what’s up? Is he harassing you? Should I block his number?”

“NO! I mean, no, don’t do that.”

“What’s the problem then?”

“He just – he wants to marry me.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I don’t – “

“Is he a bum?”

“No – far from it. I just – why would he want to marry me?” He had been honest with Penny that he would be attending counselling whilst working with Isaac and she had been instrumental in helping him find a local therapist.

“Oh, Stiles! Why wouldn’t he want to marry you?” 

“Because – apart from my job, I’m such a mess! I have so many issues, Penny – I – “

“We all have issues. But you would be surprised to find out just how many of them can be worked out with help from the people you love. And a good therapist. Sounds to me like you have both of those – if you want them.” Her words stuck in Stiles’ head, playing constantly that night as he tried to sleep. They mirrored Derek’s so closely that he found himself wondering – were the things that were bothering him, that he needed to work through – things that he **had** to be alone to handle? Or could he do them and also have everything he’d gained during his time with Derek?

* * *

“How’s your patient doing?”

“He’s good – he’s progressed to a walker already! The resilience of youth!”

“That’s excellent news – does that mean your job is coming to an end?” Stiles could hear the hope in Derek’s voice and all of the nights of no sleep, the conversations with his therapist, his chat with Penny, coalesced in his head.

“Yep – another week and he should be able to follow an at-home programme without a therapist.”

“So – where do you go from there?”

“A little place called Beacon Hills – I don’t know if you know it – “ He heard Derek’s breath catch.

“Thank fuck for that! I thought I was going to have to kidnap you!” 

“God, I love you, Derek!”

“I love you too, Stiles.” Stiles stood in silence, a huge grin on his face as he listened to Derek breathing. He was going home. And he could hardly wait.

* * *

Derek was there the morning of Stiles’ last day, pressing the doorbell with barely restrained impatience. Isaac beat Stiles to the door by an inch, yanking it open and scowling up at Derek.

“Are you the man who’s taking my Stiles away?” Derek looked down and smiled, ignoring Stiles’ smirking presence.

“I am.” He held out his hand. “I’m Derek Hale. I promise to take very good care of Stiles if you let me have him. You see, I was his patient too and I need him a lot. My leg still hurts me at night and I need him to rub it better.”

Isaac gave Derek a considering look before nodding acceptance and holding out his hand. He wasn’t quite used to shaking hands yet so just kinda held on, but Derek took it in his stride. 

“Okay. He’s real good at rubbing legs – and Disney Emojis, but I think he cheats.”

“That wouldn’t surprise me at all.” Isaac let go of Derek’s hand and turned to run to his mother, leaving the way clear for Stiles to step forward.

“You came.”

“I did. And I almost brought an entourage with me – Lydia, Erica and Boyd all had good reasons why they should come with me – only morning sickness stopped Laura and Chris just told me it was about damned time.” 

Stiles stepped into Derek’s waiting arms, closing his eyes and resting his head on a broad shoulder. Whatever the future held, whatever issues came up, he had a feeling he would be able to handle them with the family he found himself thrown into. He knew he was one of the lucky ones who had found people to help put him back together again.

* * *

**fin**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking a chance on this WiP (if you're reading this while I'm writing it) and I hope you are happy with how it ended. Sorry if you were looking for more in the way of smut - maybe they'll be an out-take or two, but who the heck knows!
> 
> Thanks for your comments, cheerleading and patience - I truly appreciate it. Covid19 happened smack-dab in the middle of this and I have found it therapeutic to have somewhere to hide while the whole world deals with this pandemic. I hope I brought you a little of the peace I found for myself.
> 
> See you on the next one  
> Skar  
> x
> 
> * * *


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